My Dearest Wallace Grayce,

We built your home around you when you were still inside your mother.

The day after you left for college, it burned to the ground in a wildfire caused by lightning in the most beautiful storm I have ever seen. I believe it served it’s original purpose fully and completely.

All that remains standing is the chimney and fireplace that warmed us as we slept — it was built tall of stone to last for millennia.

You are strong, thanks to this home. You carry the memories of our canyon. You are made of Mill Creek water, the fruit from our trees, Swanton berries and Pacific salmon. You are my wild child.

I love you, peanut.

Dad