Harriet Tubman stares at me as I approach her. I am walking in the forest behind the high school with my dogs. It is an early spring morning, the sun lighting the sky but not yet risen, trees leafless, robin and cardinal calls in my ears. In 2020, art appeared in the forest: a colorful banded ACAB (for “All Cops are Bastards” used by a variety of groups, both racist and anti-racist) sign, Toni Morrison’s portrait printed on sheet metal and Harriet, in orange and green. While Toni is gone, the others remain, and I greet them as I pass, Harriet in particular. Her eyes reach through time to touch my heart and depending on what is happening in the world, I feel her gaze as accusing, patient, angry, vulnerable, or shocked.