August 18th and another anniversary of the gold bar theft. I’ve stood where Roderick stepped out from behind the willows and stopped the shipment of bullion. I’ve found the wheel barrow he used to haul his treasure down to the water to hide. I touched his hardware and coffee cup. But I’ve yet to find the bars. One hundred and nineteen years gave the heavy metal time to work deeper into the muck. I still believe the gold lies there and will continue to search for it.
I left my beloved forested area a mere three hours before some fool tossed a cigarette from a vehicle sending a fire storm sweeping up a close valley. I hope that my area is saved but so far the fire isn’t contained and thirty homes have been lost. The area is extremely dry and any shift in wind direction poses new problems. I’ve seen much of the area that has burned and know how unforgiving fire is. I feel for the losses suffered by so many and hope their respective situations turn out well.
By the way, how fast can a butterfly travel when a wind blown fire is in pursuit?