I had a good run some time ago of posting these sentences on a weekly basis. I enjoyed the exercise — some entries comprise some of my best writing, I think — but somehow let it lapse. I’m not surprised; my last entry covered the weeks immediately following the death of my dad almost a year ago. I’ve nonetheless decided to pick up right where I last left off.
- 09/20/2015: Captioning a photo from the riverbank at Council Grove for Instagram, I was struck that for all the epic landscapes I see across a plethora of jaw-dropping images from wild locations at the brutal edges of survivable nature around the world, it is moments in my own backyard that connect me to and make me love the world the most.
- 09/21/2015: After dropping the car for Julia and then walking north over the Higgins Bridge to downtown and our studio, it was nice to arrive without being melted into a puddle by relentless summer afternoon heat.
- 09/22/2015: Never underestimate the uplifting power of an hour or two of good company in a dumpy bar.
- 09/23/2015: My morning sit: window open; birds flapping, chattering, and rustling at the feeder; a flock of geese honking by overhead.
- 09/24/2015: Tonight I remember driving home late Saturday night when what looked like a tiny little man in a ghillie suit hitchhiking roadside turned out to be a great horned owl that blinked into my headlights, possibly irritated at my spoiling of the hunt.
- 09/25/2015: Today I learned of a new novel by my friend Ron Scheer, who always commented on these posts, about to be published posthumously, and I remain startled and saddened anew every time I see his name preceded by the words “the late.”
- 09/26/2015: Something I will miss with the coming of boots-on-all-the-time season are the sandal tan lines and perpetually dirty feet of summer.