Alaska

Today I drove to lunch in a logging truck.  Have you ever driven a logging truck?  Well, for one, they are kind of like semis, just with logs on the back.  The "walls" are made of wood, and they are from the woods, and they are the trees.  I drove and drove and drove--in Alaska--over hills--down narrow roads--made tight wide turns--revved the engine--hit the air brakes--slurped soda from a huge gas station slam dunk size plastic cup--rolled the windows down--dog by my side--a couple of kids in the cab--my husband crawling around on the logs--listening to public radio--smelling the sap--reaching the cabin--frying the fish--popping  the berries in our mouths--reading the lunchtime stories--chasing the goats--watering the garden--spraying off muddy feet--sipping the coffee--drinking the milk--sitting on the porch--telling the evening story--walking down to the creek--hauling up the water--hanging up the dress--talking down the sun--