I returned to the place of my people, Arkansas. I sought breathing space in the place where I always find it to prepare for what lay ahead.
On an overcast Sunday morning I set out from Pickthorne onto a winding, flat trail, with overgrown trees that did not allow any vision of what lay between or behind them. This overgrowth required me to be extra mindful of the surroundings so photographs were not taken in order to move quickly through this section. Fortunately nothing happened other than my heart and mind racing and I was able to turn back to see what was behind me and look forward to what was ahead.
The end of the paved trail had these interesting rock sculptures that I imagine have taken many shapes as they have been reformed and reimagined by the people passing through.
In memory of James E. McCoy