Matt

But I did note it in my phone later, rule, don't answer name call if unseen, rule, no night walking, tone, serious, not joking.

That was day zero, the setup.

The first real day was day one, and it started like the whole thing was going to be one of those trips you tell people about at parties.

Wide skies, good food, family warmth, and a little spooky folklore if you want to frame it that way.

We woke up early because the family woke up early.

That's what happens when you stay with people who live by the sun instead of alarms.

We helped with small chores, nothing dramatic, carrying water, moving things, sweeping, helping prepare food, the kind of helpfulness that also lets the family keep an eye on you and decide if you're safe to have around.

Late morning, we took a short drive to a nearby viewpoint.

Real roads, real signage, the kind of place you can find on a map if you look.

The landscape out there has a way of making you feel like a tiny piece of lint on a huge table.

The ground looks simple until you get close and realize it's full of texture.

Stone, scrub, dry washes, tracks, little lives moving under your feet.

This is where the first off thing happened, and I almost didn't include it because it sounds like nothing.

But it mattered later, because it was the first time we all stopped at the same moment.

We were walking along a dirt pull-off area, not far from the truck.

Jonah was messing with a drone.

Lila was taking photos of the horizon line.

Marin was pointing out plants and telling us what not to touch.

I was recording audio and taking notes like a weirdo.

We heard something that sounded like a baby crying.