As we stood searching for the Pole star in the Chisos, Surface pointed Rufus (my camera) North and held his shutter down for seventeen still minutes. See, frozen time, is a mystical thing.

Will star trails ever get old? Is forever longer than never? Whose birthday wishes come true? And, in Yann Martel’s words, “why is it that we can throw out a question farther than we can reel in an answer?”

Celebrating a birthday. Summer. And adventure. Deep in the heart of Texas…


One thought on “seventeen

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