That moment when you are drawn to pull to the side of the road, grab the Nikon
and photograph your surroundings.
That moment when you realize,
amid Arizona's haunting Superstition Mountains,
the impulse to stop has led you to a spot where two logs,
assumed to be whitened pieces of wood,
are the bleached bones of some long-dead animal upon whose resting place
you have inadvertently intruded.
Or perhaps they are just logs after all...