I got some text messages from Ben late last night:
I know that it's great there but there's something about bare oak branches when you look to the heavens that makes it hauntingly awesome.
Nothing quite like it.
Listen to a lonesome fiddle and look for skeletal hardwoods... you're here.
It's so nice when you look past the people.
It really caught me off-guard. I always kind of felt like I'd have my masculinity questioned if I ever said anything like that to him. I hope he doesn't mind my posting these.
I told him that while I already miss all that shale and oak, wet clay and madrona are really nice substitutes.
I realized last night that he's almost 30. Oh, man.
