Take a Break, circa March 2011

Had a moment to rest in the field. Vehicle had a flat tire. The ground was warm with spring and the red clay felt great against my back. Earthing 101. I found a transient state of half sleep while waiting for a new tire. Outside Scottsburg, close to Difficult Creek.

So close to the gravesite of John B. Scott, Scottsburg, VA's namesake. I've stumbled across the memorial once or twice while canvassing the thickets. Someone said he buried himself deep in the woods after the War for Independence. Seemingly making his way toward Difficult Creek. I don't know his story but I'm finna find out. So as to make inference why he settled in the Piedmont and probably tilled the red soil. The grave is surrounded by planted pine, buck rubs everywhere. The deer bow down and pay homage, they pass the burial the most.

Do animals ever allow the light of positivity to diminish? Or, are they constantly indifferent? Do they have hope, do they look forward to success? Down the road on 360, we found a hotel in South Boston. The hotel was depleted but for a few squatting/sagging dump trucks. Like a dumptruck convention was on standby or in the queue.