Jack of Harts

I traveled to most of the Indian Nations in Minnesota when I was young. They are fairly small in most cases, the size of towns or cities. A few are county-sized, but that’s it. They didn’t prepare me for when I went to California and visited the Indian Nations out there. They were vast deserts the size of States back then. Real States, not postage stamps like Rhode Island. I had never seen that much hot or that much brown. Now they are grasslands that can support countless herds of buffalo and they make good eating if I say so myself. Some of the best. And that right there makes Earth sometimes seem more alien than any world I’ve ever visited. It is hard to see the world that is and not remember the world that was. Or those who I wish still walked atop her.