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  • On the road to Damascus, Oregon, I'm listening to Blackmill ft. Veela, "Let it be". Dawn is on its way. The moon is just a fingernail, but bright. I make a turn and Mt. Hood appears. I roll down my window to take a photo. Disappointment. Photos turn mountains into molehills, pocket-sized, not worthy of the reverence they deserve. No matter.The photo is just a doorway to memory.

    The air comes in cold and fresh through the window. My car is still running, parked beside the road. I pause. At home, my little ones are still asleep. Or maybe they are just waking up.
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