Carolan wrote this to me in an email:
Here is what I wrote on Holy Saturday.
I just watched the most
beautiful moon rise over the valley, edged by the mountains that hide
the vastness of The Bob Marshall from the curious masses. I stood under a huge
Ponderosa, feet mounted in crusty snow, hands pocketed, eyes reverent to
the hungry moon. He devoured clouds on his proud rise, bit one right
in the middle, a snack en-route to all things miraculous.
"Jesus
Christ," I whispered in wonder, and I remembered, hey, that's right,
Jesus Christ rises from the dead in a few hours, just like this
magnificent moon, and there will be a curious light in the darkness and
all shadowy things will take on a grand beauty to stage the rise.
Let
me glow in the light of the moon, the God, the Savior, the love and the
soul of the mountainous sky.
Too much? But my heart overflows.
That's all! As I read over it, it seems a bit dramatic ... it was glorious. Right behind the Rich Ranch.
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