Dinnertime

Crunching under waffle soles, the gravel slithers towards ravines below.

The organza ribbon of trail shimmers ahead in the heat, pretty and treacherous as a woman scorned.

A rain stick sound from under a sagebrush warns unwary feet away from a small rattler.

The boot connects with a large loose rock to distract the snake and a small wood scorpion unfolds its body with its tail arched above its back in the fresh earth.

At the incongruous gazebo on the hill, there's a sunset across the lake just starting.

Prickly poppies line the way, guard rails of the desert, and a jack rabbit explodes across the trail like its feet are on fire.

The hollow sound of feet pounding on wood over air disappears into a solar showdown where the watercolor artist streaks the lake and sky into flaming pastels.

In the gray of dusk, boots noisily clamber along the trail startling critters back to their hiding places.

Then the sound of a truck engine and tires backing over gravel slip into the navy blue sleeve of evening.