Propellers stilled.
No longer needed to charge the batteries; wind just dries the clothes, moves the clouds.
Electricity comes singing on glistening wires from afar,
captive wires nailed to crude crosses of wood, lacing the countryside.

---

The Store was radiant with light, warm with fragrant wood blazing in the cook stove. Hamburgers for supper in a homey setting with a big-eyed, daintily trembling Chihuahua, yap-yap! Archie and Martha sent us to the forest ranger's house to sleep. Ralph and Hattie welcomed us comfortably, visited with us hospitably and let us go to bed in the spare room in a civilized bed, blessedly warm. This we found not only food and shelter, but also neighborliness. Merilee's resourcefulness waned on the second day. Appointed chief fire marshal, she invented a marching game. Skating had no appeal. At one point she came up and grubbed in my jacket pocket. When I--absently--brushed her hand aside, she claimed petulantly that it was a game and what was the matter with me? Taking a closer look at her: "Why, you're lonesome, aren't you?"
A nod, a hug, and the comfort of tears.
The last guardian tree toppled, cut, stacked. To an imaginary trumpet fanfare and the joyous cheering of an absent multitude, our chariot entered the secret woods: good old Dodge at home in our very own hand-made clearing!
At four p.m. under a leaden sky, kick snow on the fire, head out on the homeward road. In our cozy pod we listened to the car radio ... Johnny Dollar, Have Gun, Will Travel, Gunsmoke. Boulder-strewn, saturated with brushy growth, this lonely place has an indefinable fascination. Why?
Shrug!
Outside the safe and familiar value system based on prices: a hunger, ambition, competitive impulse? A regressive instinct? An urge toward crude subsistence? A Huck Finn need to head for the territory, to retreat from the rapacity and deceit of civilization? Who can say? My muscles were sore for days. Merilee was glad to get back to her own bed, her cat, and the ministrations of mother.