The Old Blog in the Desert

She was not dressed as a traditional Paiute or Shoshone woman; she was dressed plainer. More leather, no beads, no shells, no fringe, no make-up.

Her demeanor was friendly, though we never spoke, she did smile, so did I. I sat on the rock, watching as she trouped quickly, quietly and deftly by and up the hillside to  a nearby grove of Pine nut trees.

She stopped and looked back at me, still smiling before disappearing into the grove. I could still see her feet, beneath the boughs of a tree she stepped behind, before they dematerialized into nothingness.

Thinking it was a trick of the eye, I raced up the hill, but could not finder her. After searching for about fifteen minutes, I returned to the rock on which I sat when she first passed and have not seen her since.

How can I expect you to believe this when I can hardly believe it myself — then missing Kenny Veach enters my confused mind?