each of us gathered here has often been fed by the vessel of that which we have killed.

-a picture of myself and my two brothers as we rest atop the summit of mt. oberlin in glacier national park. less than thirty miles from our birthplaces in flathead county, montana.

my next “vacation” shall in most part include bulding up the cook-fire as night falls, with the manner of talk that brothers have amongst themselves before we relegate our own selves to contemplate the wheelings of the creaking and lumbering stars above our heads as each hears the distant and besetting cricket-chirp which is all crickets and unto we lay our heads down only to lastly glimpse the moon that reports only to each soul and secretly pins it to the moment before the eyes close. each with his own patch of soil or loam upon which he is lain, yet the breadth of midnight thunder and tectonic shift and even to erosions is couriered like river ripstream or rumour amongst the others and it is unsaid that we know of this, so we nod and hum a quick response. and as such brothers we listen to the dying coals in the common fire and adjust ourselves for honed sleep.

aye, for there are animals out there tomorrow that we shall be required to eat. we shall find them with ease, my brothers.