I just want to be alone with my land. Bodiless. Far within my land. Beneath the snow, the soil is still soft and warm, rich and moist, and willing to take me.

It was without steel and metal of mechanical truck that the road spun and threw me. It was my own small human form alone that collided with field and snow bank. It was my body alone that, thinking itself steady and on course, rode into black ice and snaked out of control. Out of control. Unable to see straight. My vision taken away. Altered in one moment. The earth and the ice to do what they want with me. To stain the snow with me. To cut the ice with me. To not break into me at all. To leave me, spun but in solid human form.

I was listening to my favorite song and I was pulled into the other lane of the empty highway and I was pulled back into my lane and the pull being too much for the ground, I was in the air and I was in the fields and I was caught in a ditch that spun me three hundred and sixty degrees before it let me go still, before it held me still and cradled me. I was in a ditch that said, stop. Stop. Why don’t you stop to listen and feel and remember. This is your highway you bicycled every morning and every night for months. This is your highway you know every mile of. Stop. Visit with me.

I faced Kamiak Butte, I faced its tree cragged back of an animal, of a lizard. I thought of what it’s like in those trees, at the top of the butte in snow…

I just want to be alone with my land. To lay in the upturned soil that my body has scarred. Soil
sacrificed to me. Snow mixed with the deep brown so impermanent. Snow blackened and browned by the scar my body created.

I just want all the cars to stop. Stop. And for the people to stop. The people stopping to ask if I’m okay. Yes I am with my land, and I just want to be alone. So that I can listen to the wind and feel the air and be alone with my land. Warm in the hands of my land. Brown of the upturned soil guarding me from falling blizzard.

The field said, Stop. You were out of control, but now you are with me. Stay with me, just for a little while. Come inside me, I will let you in. I will show you eternity and let you walk back into time. Your cat is here prowling my grasses. The heart of your friend that was so huge and loving that it killed him is here. There is a bed of sweet grass here. There is a woman who taught you to choose happiness. There is a quilt made by the hands of a healer as she listened to the book Daughter of Fortune on tape. There is the journal of a writer’s first published story. There are the strings of your guitar, you must put together to play me a song. There are the children not yet born in the bellies of your friends. There are the children who are growing now.

Growing from blizzards and field. The field that said, Stop. I am alive, I hold your memories and they are alive too. They are dynamic as me, changing with me, staying the same with me.

My land is alive, and I am alive. And I remember being alone with my land.