A lovely scene for a grisly murder


I once loved a boy from Cuyahoga. It ended badly, but that was very long ago.

Several years ago, Geoff and I went camping near Cleveland. We met his parents halfway between our homes. We visited Cuyahoga National Park, hiking with our two dogs. We were kidless at the time. We found the park amazing, and we hiked ten miles that day. We brought no food, but we stopped for ice cream along the way.

Near the end of the hike, I found myself getting tired, I found myself a little bit scared. Not knowing why, I looked around, and saw the sunlight slanting through the trees, the light glinting off of branches and leaves in that almost magical way that it does. I was captivated by it, and I was terrified at the same time. Why? I wondered. I’ll never know for sure. It was a sliver of doubt shooting through my certain heart. Would I make it out alive?

We did. We returned to our campsite and Geoff’s parents made us steak for dinner. The dogs slept for two days.

Looking back, I realize, that peaceful park would be a great place for a grisly murder. It would be a peaceful place to die. Figuratively.