...she felt the fish there, hovering in her current, their mouths miming silent conversations.

Among all those stories, there were heroes. My brother Douglas was one of them.

...even the bus stops seemed to have ancient relics in them.

Each character learns that all of these things are waiting inside them, sometimes hidden and discovered, sometimes known and ignored.

He couldn't guess if we would have other flat tires...if we would be celebrating or scared...He only knew one thing.

The performers dropped in and out, wove into the music like a good conversation...

...packing away the big cooler wherever they put it so they won't forget, but always do.

I wrote in my journal: "Last night I slept with a man from Pakistan."

I have not been unhappy with the groundhog, per se, who I have named Ollie, because 'Per Se' is not appropriate.

Children run for the delight of it. It is freedom articulated, an exuberant, seemingly infinite expression of possibility.

All these people...and now...us.

Yes, I used a 'meta' metaphor.

I have never looked at a two-lane road again without wanting to know where it went.

He loves to invent words, including my recent favorite, 'Chickington'...

"The world is full of magic things, patiently waiting for our senses to grow sharper."

The Marathon Blues is not a song.

"Nothing shapes our journey through life as much as the questions we ask." Greg Levoy

June 9, 2025 Greetings from the hopeful, A few months ago I noticed a connection that startled me. I wrote myself a note so I could...

In some ways, the long run is a kind of exfoliation.

Dorothy's legacy is far reaching and complex, but it's simplest for me to see it in the lives of those nearest me.