There were these two crows that guarded the entry way to a path where one could explore the petrified wood. You could reach down and grab a handful of shattered pieces of wood, and small crystal like pieces. I wanted to stuff them into my pocket to fufill a childhood pursuit- I used to take a hammer out into my gravel driveway and split open the gravel looking for crystals. This was a hopeless endeavor, and ultimately I settled for a rock tumbler, which banished me to the basement (as one can imagine the sound of rocks banging around for hours). I put it all back.

Above is a bridge that was discovered here in the 1800's. At this spot there was a silence, a stillness that I have never experienced in my entire life. It felt soundproof. Then a family in an R.V. and a motorcycle pulled up. But for a moment...