Waking with Ghosts in Sequoia and Kings Canyon National Parks
<p>I wake up in the bluing dawn with the ghost of Burnette G. Haskell bent over one side of my cot and the ghost of James J. Martin leaning over the other. It wasn’t either of them who woke me, not when they came through the flap of my tent, nor when they stood silently in the clothing and facial hair straight out of the 1800s.</p>
<p>I am up because of the light filtering through my white canvas walls; somewhere in my deep animal unconscious I know the sounds of early-morning birds and mammals even though I’ve lived in the city most of my life. The three of us stare at each other for a moment.</p>
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