rock hound

Dust needs not worry about time on a day free of wind whial the sun glares down. It is hot and the foot-falls give license for the dust to rise, to rise to what ever station may seem fit- genlty settling upon boot tops or sweat stained jeans. This part of the day is not right to be out digging for rocks, but I do so none-the-less. A long pull on the canteen, then back to the shovel work: another treasure awaits.