Beneath the half-eaten pumpkin moon, I shiver beneath a thin shell of sleeping bag and quilt. Arriving at the Bad Lands [the French dubbed thee as “bad land to cross”] I and others mistakenly conceived that South Dakota would be warmer than Wisconsin with the seemingly logical rationality that it was “South”, therefore it would be hotter and under the cast of somber clouds, we arrived before these strange lands. Harnessing the recklessness of teenage bravery, we crossed the fields and cacti to these odd shapes in the wilderness. Carrie warned that they would be particularly dangerous to climb after it rained and I echoed those words of wisdom as I sunk into the chocolate river [in actuality a mud river] and up into the cornflower sky.
Later as day faded to night, I stood shivering under the sheltered picnic tables and laid across playing cards for divination. What I discovered gave another face of understanding to the significance of this journey we took and have taken. The wisdom of these ancient lands shall remain after our own passing and shall endure within ourselves, if only we care to look.
あ！Sai Wei
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