He wandered into camp one day, that great explorer, long after we thought him lost to history. Long after he disappeared into the blizzard that blew up out of prevailing arctic winds while we were out on an expedition. Just that morning I’d given him my metal ring to keep safe while I worked to dig out our tents from last night’s snows, and then when the wind picked back up and became a storm, and he disappeared, we thought it, and he was gone. And now, a week later, he wanders in with longer hair, with a disheveled beard, but with determined and ever-hopeful eyes. He knew he’d make his way back to us, and though the ring may be brushed with the cold-blowing arctic ice, he had brought it back to me.
He’s struck gold exactly once as a prospector, and it wasn’t enough to sell. But he took the bouillon to the assayer and melted it down to form his lucky ring. That ring has been with him ever since, on every speculation, every pan, every survey. It’s gone with him deep into the river beds and high into the mountain headwaters, and every time it’s brought him luck. Not gold, no, but the contentedness, the happiness, and the serenity of his labor. He’s never worn the ring without wearing a smile with it, and the gold that sparkles in his eyes.
We wake up in the middle of the night, just after the moon has set, and put on thick down coats against the thin cold of the mountain air. We’re camped at the bottom of a granite cirque just beside the lake, and the entire bowl glows a soft silver. It’s not the light of our headlamps, or the moon, but in the pitch black of the night above we see it bold, striated, structured: the Milky Way buttressing the heavens from one end of the dome to the other.
Black Zirconium Metal
Shown 7mm wide
1.3mm, .01ct, SI1, G-H Color, Natural or Lab-Grown Diamonds
Nature abhors a straight line. Nature’s paths wind, loop back around, drift and stray. We claim the fastest way between two points is a line, but who are we to claim that the fastest way is the best way? Where do we get by traveling the straight path, merely to our destination? But where do we get by meandering? Only the forest knows, but it’ll happily lead us there.