Arriving in the sacred Inyo Mountains I am greeted by an unexpected profusion of wildflowers.  A sea of purle, pink, yellow and red, scattered beneath the pinion pine and junipers.  A testament to the hidden ferticility held deeply in this dry place.

As we come togther in community of people and land, I dig into the dry places whin my soul.  The flowers guides me, I follow their lead.  Some days I draw one, determined to learn its name and the bones of shape, colour, form.  Mountain larkspur, wild heliotrope, segolily - my companions.