Clouded Rust

On a remote plateau above legendary BC ranchlands, under a huge sky mixing with clouds, I found a burnt house and a burnt car beside it. An outline of a foundation and scorched shattered leavings were all that evidenced a life, marking the surface of the prairie like cigarette ash on a sidewalk. Standing in the field of grasses lightly bending with snow, it was hard to think of anyone calling this place their home.

This water tank sat in the foundation centre, blistered by flames and rusted by rain. There were pictures of the bigger places painted on it, landscapes on metal. Looking around me, I could see images that had fused themselves to it through time and silence. I liked this one best – it looked like sparks in the darkness, like stars, like fire burning the clouds in some impossible cowboy blue sky.