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Sunday, April 7, 2019

Sometimes it is very hard to come to the end of a book. Or anything else.

In the Chiricahuas
The two men began to ride into the hills daily. They seldom spoke. They rode silently, through the places Cochise had lived in and fought in, through the places he remembered from his childhood. They went to the canyons in the Dragoons and into the depths of the Chiricahuas, to the secret places which later came to be called by the Indians the Spiritland of Cochise. Cochise devoured his country as though it were food. He drank in his memories as though they were strong liquor. He found forgotten camp sites, old hunting grounds, places of terrible beauty and unworldly isolation. He touched trees and stroked huge boulders and when he spoke it was only to say the names of the shrubs and the plants. 
Elliott Arnold, Blood Brother
In the Dragoons


Dawn said...

It's special when you know something is ending so that you can take the time and effort to "drink in" the memories.

P. J. Grath said...

I guess I know what you mean, Dawn, but I have been drinking it in like a desert fish (?) since mid-December and am still wanting more!