In the fall the Merced River in Yosemite becomes mirror still. My friend Darius and I were almost to the mouth of the valley on our annual fall trip. I saw this log out of the corner of my eye and did a very quick head turn to watch it go by. Ten seconds later, I asked Darius to turn around. I showed the first proof print to Linda, my wife, she carefully scrutinized it and pronounced it should be called “Broken Arrow.”

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