She stared out over the empty Nevada desert wondering if anyone had found one of her many letters. Being a widow of less than a year, Maggie was lonely, sad and desperate.
Days before she had sat at her upright piano, which Matt had bought her as a wedding gift nearly five years before, and began writing. She poured out her emotions in two or three sentences, then with either a red, yellow or green ribbon, tied each folded letter to a single rolling sage bush, then set it free.
After six-weeks, with not one word, Maggie ended her loneliness.