What Time Will You Be Back?

Slate clouds layered over ash and silver. Blue-white snow. Pewter water with pale gold reflections where the clouds thin. Frosted ponderosas ranging from near-black in the foreground to grey-green further on. Mother nature’s palette, perfectly analogous, perfectly aligned. Cold, inhospitable, lonely. But also soothing, peaceful and grounding.

I left home before sunrise and drove forty-five minutes to Garden Valley. I needed the silence. Lily, my daughter, was moving out that day. She’d worked hard to earn enough money for her own place. I was proud of her but I wasn’t ready.

I made the photograph. The river, the stillness, the cold. It held me there. She texted as I lingered. What time will you be back?

I stayed a few moments longer. Everything frosted and still and quiet.

Then drove home to move her out.