But I sit with some of the folks who are at the flit knap, old timers with 30 years of experience knocking rocks around. They are patient, thoughtful. We sit around a smoky fire, glass rock shards in a riot of color scattered in piles everywhere, under an aging Juniper tree. The blue berries reflect the clear blue sky; blue on blue that we've missed west of the Cascades.

Photo taken by Reverend Blue Sky.