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Fellowship of Hollow Men

The mountains have bones, its spinous process ridge cuts north north east. Covered with conifer, thick in places with sharp demarcations into brush growing within the rectangular clear cuts. Below this north ridge, never with any direct sun,forest light is filtered into shades and shadows. Branching from a tarmac county road, a long unused logging access is overgrown leaving rough approximately parallel lines up and into the search area. Contact had been lost during the night, and in early morning,the flight officially listed as missing. Nocturnal searches futile with continued negative contact radio silence. 

With morning light this area had been the focus of search based on last contact and projected heading and, before long, the debris site had been located. A dozen vehicles, private cars, S & R, Fire & Rescue and news rigs are strung half on and off the cross road below. In a ravine, the remnants and the remains of the flawed and fallen Astar. The crumpled wreck, twist of fiberglass, aluminum and pine boughs unfamiliar in this form yet familiar in small detail. Detached and uphill, the bent tail boom is anchored by the still attached propeller. From above, the partially exposed frame distorts a crushed “Heart..” logo. On the ground, coworkers, crew members and friends wander the surrounding woods of hollowed disbelief. There is no laughter here, and the only quiet words come from dry voices and, almost whispered when leaning together. And when one stops an illusory sense of stillness becomes overwhelming and it creates the need to be searching. Small pieces of aircraft plastic, a white control fuse button, a vial of medicine, a stethoscope strung in reticulated Syringa.

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Wu: Heaven above and fire below form Fellowship. The jun zi distinguishes things by their kinds.