Box Canyon Mystery
Those ribs Rebecca made – can’t stop thinking about them!
But – where were we? Oh, yeah. Bernie was talking about how we squeezed out of the back end of that cave and found ourselves on a steep hillside looking down at this strange tiny box canyon. “Only visible from straight up in the air,” Bernie said at the time. “See what that means?”
I did not. All I saw was wreckage way down on the canyon floor: an airplane prop, a wing, other pieces I didn’t know the names for.
“That’s an old biplane,” Bernie said, “so old it was made of wood. Wonder how long it’s been down there?”
We started down the steep hillside, easy for me, not so easy for Bernie. His war wound bothers him sometimes, but he never talks about it, not even to me.
This entry was posted on Monday, June 15th, 2009 at 10:14 am and is filed under Chet The Dog. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.