To adventure. When I was young, guided by my imagination and the books I read, I adventured. My siblings and I laid planks between tree limbs and called them forts. We pinned blankets over the dome jungle gym and called it a tent. We dropped charcoal briquettes into freshly dug holes to bake potatoes and […]Read more "Some Other Dimension"
Walt Whitman wrote– There was a child went forth every day, And the first object he looked upon and received with wonder or pity or love or dread, that object he became, And that object became part of him for the day or a certain part of the […]Read more "A Child Went Forth"
I took a walk in early November, and what did I see? In the gray light of coming winter, I saw a chickadee perched in a tree. I took a stroll that Saturday afternoon, and who did I meet? Parading down a gravel road, ruffed grouse communed in twos and threes. The snow […]Read more "I Took a Walk"
The sun shone brilliantly Saturday. In celebration, I spent the morning taking photographs at Agassiz National Wildlife Refuge. I wondered what sights I’d see as I headed to the refuge. The week prior great flocks of ducks had shared the open water, rising in concert at the screech of an approaching raptor, settling again once all […]Read more "The Earth Tilts"
I tell you this, ‘though I admit some shame in doing so. My heart hurts as I wander the woodlots surrounding the house. The aspen and slippery elm leaves I watched unfurl in the earliest spring have yellowed. They fall now with the slightest provocation. They fall at the merest suggestion of a breeze. They fall […]Read more "To Dream"
Perhaps it’s due to my age, but I no longer aspire to fame. At fifty-seven, an individual might consider one’s remaining years and conclude that fame — elusive up to now — was unlikely to occur. There are flaws in that perspective. For instance, who’s to say how long one has on earth? Who’s to […]Read more "Elusive Fame"
The first wheat was taken from the fields last Sunday, and now semi-trucks loaded with grain travel the county roads to the elevator in Hazel. Sandhill cranes grazed the shorn field south of our place Monday. I parked my bike on the shoulder of the road to photograph them in the early morning light. […]Read more "You Might Ask"