Orfeo

cotton

It’s 12:30 in the afternoon but no sun reaches the little dog or I in Gold Creek valley. We stood in eye squinting light just minutes ago. The sun just dropped before a spruce-lined ridge, backlighting a dozen of the tall trees so they glow like Greek gods. While Aki divines meaning in signs left by other dogs, I think of Orfeo. Aki missed out on the local performance of that opera by Monteverdi. The gods portrayed cast down favors and torment like today’s sun distributes light on the south-facing side of Mount Juneau.

 

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