Water flowed close by, animals all around me much more indigenous than I. Next door lay some old stones, old-timey pictures of a general store and post office. All that remain are the rocks. Took those rocks to my cabin on Elk River, well, me and God’s cabin anyway. Placed them around my fire-pit. Now me and old ghosts of memories cook hot dogs together. Fish swim below in silence, maybe waiting for a handout. Squirrels will race here in the morning for scraps if raccoons and possums don’t get here first.

Folks think big money is everything. Certainly does have a place, but lust for riches drives evil and insanity. You bet I’ll spend money if it’s there. If not, I’ll eat a hot dog by my fire-pit. Just me, and my old rocks, and the fire, and memories, and critters, and God, ad infinitum, I’m blessed.