The quiet here is medicine to the ear and the eye. Every step I take has a sound, and I listen. Every direction has a view. Along the southeast horizon, in the late afternoon, the golden hills meet the sky, and a blue-violet shaft glows if you look with a soft eye. The prairie dogs talk among themselves about me when I approach. Over time I think and hope they will recognize me.

We have set up our cabin, so it feels like home. The cats are happier than ever, with soft spots to sleep in and doors to the outside just for them.

Rapid City is an hour and a bit away with great thrift shops and a food coop. To get there by way of routes 27 and 44, we drive through great gray rock forms and green grassland. Nature sculpted god-rock personalities and planted little gardens here and there. Mind you, this is August in a dry year on a dry day I’m describing.