|'Fallow Field' 18x24" oil pastel on board; Kathleen Faulkner|
The field is at the end of the road; beyond that, the Skagit river.
I've only been to this field a few times.
Once it was covered in river water. Another time the water between the rows had frozen.
This last time it was a soft, slight green.
The field has a wildness about it despite having been altered by man. It is something hard to explain.
Once I smelled the Salish sea there.
Some places have that wild energy yet live so close to home: all along the edges of Fir Island, the slough through Edison, the rotten dock at the north end of town.
Later I'll walk up to Cranberry Lake nestled in the midst of the Anacortes Forest Lands nestled in the midst of town.