Sky Mesa You can be Amazing

bonita, she asks. his somber expression cracks in a wide smile. bonita, he confirms. 

then she says something, motioning back to the bird. when she repeats the word again, soto’s brow folds, a new crease along his forehead as he parses her intentions. 

herón. he repeats, the word thick on his tongue. he shakes his head, pointing again at the bird which has now opened its great wings and alights upon a fallen tree by the bank’s edge. garza azúl.