D’s Bones

Near Mount Cruiser
we abandon trail,
camp among creamy bistort
under the teeth of
Henderson ridge—
gateway to backcountry.
Exhilarated, we
join our bodies.
At this exact
moment
Ariel Meadow
steps through silent
vast, crosses
trackless snow,
into our lives
forever.

Upon reflection, we were totally ready for Ariel to join us at this unexpected moment. The entire week-long cross country backpacking trip was filled with magical portents of the gift that had arrived. There was the amazing encounter with a mountain goat, both of us stark naked. There were prophetic dreams. On and on. “Bistort” (the American Bistort, nicknamed the “bottlebrush flower”) became the future Ariel’s en utero name.

We promised to take Ariel into this country when she turned 18–and, in 1993, the three of us did just that.