I saw a black cat on the side of the highway going 75, its head turned away from the road, ears sticking up like it was sleeping.

It still looked soft, fur dark and somehow clean and lit with sun as I barreled past.
I thought about pulling over a mile too late in the opposite lane, to pick it up from the gravel space between tarmac and dry, yellowing October grass.

I saw it the next day on the same drive I always take, fur still clean, head facing away from me like it was sleeping. I thought about pulling over a mile too late, in the opposite lane, to pick it up.

My 1996 Camry kept speeding, eyes staring at the strip of land separating cars going in opposite directions.

I saw a lot of animals on the way to Corvallis.

Possums, a pair of raccoons laying just under an overpass, squirrels, larger groundhogs halfway over a little bit of a bridge, ducks, small birds I could not identify. A nutria laying in the middle of the suburban road, across the yellow lines dividing me and the car moving towards me.

I wanted to stop and pick every one of them up.

Kae Ranck

Biography: I’m just a college art student living at home with their parents who happens to love creating pieces that help me express my emotions and what I see around me.

Artist Statement: My submissions for Roots reference my exploration of my own roots, my family and the deeply personal core aspects of myself that build the foundation of who I am.