I spent the day scrubbing history from walls hidden under the rail tracks. Layers of dirt and windswept stone came away under my hand. The arch above my head remains untouched, but everything below my eyes has gone back to ground. A hidden work, only to be found by those who wander down out of town, and then take the time to look closely the whole way down. This installation may be in and about the town of Byers, but in many ways it feels like it's for me and myself alone.