Long stretches go by when neither of us speaks, my father and I. We’re sitting here in the living room a few feet apart, some innocuous spaghetti western on the idiot box. But it’s like we’re on horseback side-by-side at the edge of a vast canyon, problem-solving instead of taking in the view.
rearranging the stars fast moving clouds
What would we do in that kind of cowboy situation? Surrounded by hostile natives and only one way down--a slow switchback through scrub, rock and rattlers. No time for chit-chat. We'd get a move-on. The horses need water. And night'll be here before we know it.
climbing the same tree a different boy