One o’clock in the morning, A freight train rolls into the station behind my apartment building. Diesel shakes my window panes. The building is quiet enough for me to believe I’m the only one awake. Sketching prairie plants with a pencil while a movie plays in the corner of the room. Earlier this evening I was hunched over a sheet of plywood scribing it with ten thousand or more, very short lines. When its late at night like this I don’t like the music too loud in the headphones. Just enough to meld with the diesel running in the backyard. It’s leaving town in just a few minutes, then I’ll turn the volume back.

A mockingbird and a Barn Owl. Two of my favorite occupants of this California Republic.