A twelve-year-old girl keeps a sunfish in a bucket for days. One she caught while camping. She feeds it bits of leftover burger. Dried worms from the sidewalk. Poor, stupid moths that bang against her bedroom window. And ants. The sunfish floats. Surrounded by white walls. Under a narrow shaft of light. The big sky … More no hands
I think more people should write privately. Keep journals. Scribble away on scrap paper getting their thoughts straight, pouring out their guts, discussing what eats them up, inspires them, makes them happy or sad. People should do this every day. Once in the morning before they enter their daily life. And once at night before … More a simple particle
The month is wrapping up. Not that it matters much. Dates in boxes. Pages with pictures. Calendars quantifying our existence. Making other days more important than others. Conditioning us for deadlines and expectations, so that we conform. Time is a construct. I am not 47. I am one and I am one-hundred. I’m yesterday and … More the paradigm
The virus is picking up pace again. At least that’s what the news reports. I’m not sure if it’s that more people are getting it or that we’re discovering that more people have it. I suppose that’s the same thing, but what I’m trying to get at is if we went around testing everyone to … More “We want the world, and we want it now.” ~ Jim Morrison
It’s time to drive gravel roads that cut through the hardwoods. To creep along sandy trails that meander through sprawling forests of pine. Driving off the pavement is one of my favorites. I enjoy opening the windows, smelling the fresh air, listening to the sound the tires make as they explore unfamiliar terrain. I am … More backroaders
Up late on the eve of my 47th birthday. Drinking vodka and Sprite. Eating sour Twizzlers. Looking at the flies I purchased from Orvis during a 70% off sale. Finally, they’re here. The media shows a world going to hell, but selfish me, I’ve been thinking about fishing. Checking the mailbox twice a day for … More another year
Up late on the eve of my 47th birthday. Drinking vodka and Sprite. Eating sour Twizzlers. Looking at the flies I purchased from Orvis during a 70% off sale. Finally, they’re here. The media shows a world going to hell, but selfish me, I’ve been thinking about fishing. Checking the mailbox twice a day for … More another year
Sun is staying up later, giving my gut happiness. My spirit needs the light as much as my bones. It’s good to feel home and know it has nothing to do with place. It’s a mind not set that learns, grows, and never shows its age. ~ KJ
Bubbles in puddles mean rain for three days. It’s day two. The transplanted bushes and sod are greening. Roots are taking hold. I never cared much for landscaping. And still don’t. But lately, I’ve found there’s a calming effect being so close to the ground, putting fingers into the earth. But there was no yard … More a family walk
You did well today. Casting a silver-blue Panther Martin over and over. Under overhangs. Over stumps. Placing the lure within inches of the bank, as if you’d done it before. But you hadn’t. I’m happy I got waders for you. Even if we never enter the water together again, I will always remember today. You … More Trout River
