In which bodies are weird, and douglas firs do not talk.
Before Ordering a Second Margarita
Like "I Go Down to the Shore in the Morning," except longer, angrier, and not a classic. So actually different, but there's a beach in both?
Conversations with Landscape is in Transition!
Hello Friends, Thanks so much for taking part in this ongoing conversation. You're wonderful, and I appreciate your support. For a little while at least, I won't be updating this blog. I began it as a way to prove that I could produce writing I enjoyed, on a regular schedule, and share it with anyone … Continue reading Conversations with Landscape is in Transition!
Home Again: A Photo Essay
A long time coming, it came like a winter flood. After six months idling in the backwaters, our house sold one day, and it carried us away for a month. Only a month? My body says a year. My body says: go for a walk. A sanity-preserving suggestion. We’ve landed in a gangly elbow of … Continue reading Home Again: A Photo Essay
Aftermath
I haven’t been through my canyon since the last big storm. Some things have changed. The route, for one, and I’m wearing the wrong pants for the detour. A douglas fir - average size - has snapped off near its base and splintered along the path. Chickadees are chasing each other through the rubble, a … Continue reading Aftermath