Jason Wallace

Lost and Now Found

The summer sun was blasting down from directly overhead. If not for the shade of the white tents dotting the area, we would all be dying of heat-stroke. The local vegetation leaned more toward low scrub and brush than anything an outsider would call trees. Men and women in jeans and hiking boots wearing matching t-shirts carefully sifted through loose dirt in screens. I was here mostly because my family had been hunting in these woods for generations, so I hired on as their guide.