It is always up through scruffy hills lined with scrub and brush and grass mostly brown or faded green. Strong young legs peddling the electric orange bike like pistons. A moment of respite in a smooth glide down only to climb once more to a higher point and broken toothed fences thrown away toys neglected yards with closed eyed houses. Paled color peeling from sagging porches. Yellow cat sitting silent tail twitching. Watching and waiting. What is its prey? Red flower blossoms spattering a rusted blue Chrysler. Maybe Billie lives here. That house shows life. Boards over the windows there. Main Street twists into something new. Two more hills and a few million weeds. Store and school closed fire house shut The next hamlet looks like the one next door. Twins of a coal mining past. Wind of her passage blows desperation back to the wink and blink of the miniature towns. Wheels spin an electric orange blur. Hair whipping like branches in a storm. The wall comes into view and she slows to see kaleidoscope colors through untainted eyes. Sulfurous yellow amaranth red and cerulean blue colors of nature in unnatural form stacked one on another, a story to tell. Heavenly bodies are magically bound moon and stars blazing sun and sky with clouds when wrought of stone and mortar. They exist through time unchanging. Huge old elms with thick gnarled roots a nutrient quest searches far between broken sidewalks. Limbs shade and protect the enchanted wall giving life and power to imagination.