You don’t open up the hood of a fine Italian car to find the rusted out engine of an old Volkswagen. Such a car needs an engine perfectly machined, finely tuned. And the engine that growls and rumbles, each gear and belt polished and greased to precision, mechanisms that slide over each other with no resistance. Nobody ever asks a craftsman how long it took to make their masterwork—they only remark on how well it’s made. This band is made perfect for perfection, and is as precise as you need it to be.
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.