A Concho story

I went looking for Concho today.

I roamed onto the golf course to a dry path where the tire marks were left behind from a previous muddy day. The birds sounded out to each other announcing possible intrusions. The Bull Market had a few cars parked outside and the chickens maintained their lives behind the permanent fence where they usually follow me from one end to the other. Toward the wooden bridge, where the stream from the underground source flows the tree, this tree, appeared. I went looking for a story, I wanted to find kids running and perhaps a group of cows that would stare me down, but instead there was this tree. The shadow of the tree, the branches getting ready to spawn buds, and the trunk…the strong, positive, fat trunk spoke of Concho. I listened with my eyes. There was silence. There was time. There was a source of life from the sun and it showed me that we are moving, spring is coming, get ready, the new life is here. K. Maxwell

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