One-Sentence Journal, Week Forty-Nine

  1. 10/18/2015:  I swear the kingfishers hanging around my ramble paths know I want to photograph them and are deliberately fucking with me.
  2. 10/19/2015:  The enthusiasm from my Canadian friends on the night of their election really makes me look forward to all the bitter, bile-flavored disappointment to come for us ‘Mericans over the next year.
  3. 10/20/2015:  I’m not anti-hunting at all, but I’d be lying if I said all the dudes with rifles stomping through the wandering grounds I frequent with Darla the Adventure Dog don’t make me just a little bit nervous.
  4. 10/21/2015:  Why get projects completed in a timely fashion when you can cram most of the work into that desperate, final hour?
  5. 10/22/2015:  Sunshine gets all the glamour, but I live for foggy mornings on the river, mist rising in clouds from its surface, herons overhead heard, not seen.
  6. 10/23/2015:  Reservation thrift store find of the century: two signed first edition Ed Abbey books and the paperback edition of the Lord of the Rings trilogy that I grew up with.
  7. 10/24/2015:  Sleeping late, a big breakfast, a saunter around the river, and then not much else makes for a pretty decent Saturday.
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Processed with VSCOcam with f2 preset

6 thoughts on “One-Sentence Journal, Week Forty-Nine

  1. Malcolm Avenue Review

    So do you and Darla wear bright colors when the bloodthirsters are out and about? I can imagine it would be a bit nerve-wracking. Another fun/interesting week of tidbits. Great bookstore find! It’s always nice to come across a golden oldie in the form you remember.

    1. Chris Post author

      No, where we actually go only duck hunting is allowed, but larger game hunters pass through to the other side of the river, from what I can tell. Saw a couple bow hunters as well.

    2. Chris Post author

      The only time I’ve ever been nervous in the woods re: hunters was when I lived in Washington. I lived up against property owned by Cascadia. There were many deer and elk back in there, and I hiked the hell out of it, but hunting wasn’t allowed. One time I came around a corner in the trail and there was a guy there in full camo and a bow. That freaked me out, because the only reason for him to be out there was to poach. As I walked away, I felt nervous about an arrow suddenly hitting me in my back, but that was just my overactive imagination.


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