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Priscilla Van Valkenburgh

The Pink Jacket

Route 80—just past the rocky, snow-dappled canyons on the way to Park City. Narrow, enclosing cliffs give way there, and spit out travelers through fertile fields next to the river. First, we spot a car stopped by the side of the road. Then, we realize that a man is kneeling by the center guardrail across the road from the car. He's gently patting a small pink jacket apparently trying to soothe it. For a split second we panic. Could a young child be lying there? At seventy-five miles per hour our view and assessment of the situation is fleeting. As we pass the scene we see the distinctive white head of a bald eagle turning and lifting toward the man. Its pink draped body, motionless.

store penny dish
quarters also
discarded