This morning I woke up thinking of round river rocks. Spring is beginning to soften to summer, time to hike again. Here is eastern Washington, the sky is so different, clouds move quickly, changing colors, shifting shapes, then the unadorned sky remains, that unforgettable sky blue, the color of the gods, protection. I never see a turquoise without feeling warmed by these stones.

Round river rocks remind me of how I tried to learn how to skip rocks, that magical skipping when you throw a rock and it makes these hops before sinking down, its own waves. Allen was there. He taught me to hold the rock just so, slant my wrist, and then throw with force. I only tried once, for my rock slammed into some little kid's stomach.

Tomorrow we go back on the road, south to Oregon, and we're both ready to see again the Willamette Valley, our friends, and those places along the river we used to walk. I think we've been in Spokane long enough to call it home. It feels good to sink into the geography of a place, to come to know the stones, the waterfalls, so full now with melting snow and rain, and family here, close to my heart.