I walked to where the land opened in every direction, staring into the distance, following the sun’s path toward the western horizon. Shimmering gold threaded through the hydrangea blue sky while waves of clouds winked as though they knew where everyone was headed and they would lead the way.
I had nowhere to go, so I walked toward a city of tents. Boxy green wagons in various states of undress were parked every which way. The frenzied atmosphere was punctuated by the excited shouts of children. Oxen and mules grunted as they grazed as they did in Noah’s day, two by two, while the sharp smell of linseed oil, wafting from the pristine white canvas covers, hovered in the breeze.
The men slapped each others’ arms while the women stood high-shouldered and tight-lipped, surveying their wagons
