Approaching the graveled bridge, his feet were fresh but his mind was not.
Muscling up the steep incline of the washed out trail, worry would not leave him.
Watching a hound scare up a wild turkey, future images danced in his head.
Drinking filtered water from a used bottled tea container, the distant past was desired.
Feet pounding down a tree covered mountain side, the recent past was not.
Noticing the small wild iris, the need to share covered him.
Sinking his head into the cold, spring, creek water, that all disappeared.
Even if only for that instant.
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