blinded. by the light.


I love the mornings. If the day’s my own, it’s when I feel my happiest. This morning I wanted to watch the sun rise across the lake. Instead, I found a field, out in the middle of nothing, by a road that dead-ended into the water. I got out of my car, and stood, and

water wings


Last night I crawled into the water. Put my face toward the sky. And began to float. I imagined what it would be like to feel that weightless, to feel that lifted up and carried along and free, all the time. Like the wings of eagles. Where you run and don’t grow weary. Where you

country roads


I don’t get nostalgic. I’m not a proud mountaineer. I don’t wear the gold and the blue. I don’t sing “Coal Miner’s Daughter” like I used to. “Oh I’m proud to be a coal miner’s daughter. I remember well, the well where I drew water. Nothing’s left, but the floors, Nothing lives here, anymore. ‘Cept

bridge day


Bridge Day is an annual one-day festival in Fayetteville, West Virginia. All four lanes of the bridge are closed to automobiles and opened to pedestrians. Estimates have 100,000 people attending the overall event. It’s the only day of the year people are allowed to BASE jump off the bridge into the New River Gorge 876

fishing boats


Last Fall I spent a lot of time in an old fishing boat that had been left on the bank. It became a sort of security blanket, when life became overwhelming. Sometimes I’d just sit in it and let squirrels throw nuts down at me. Other times, I’d push it out onto the lake, and

the fear of childishness


“When I became a man I put away childish things. Including the fear of childishness and the desire to be very grown up.” ? C.S. Lewis Last weekend I went looking for a tractor. I found a bale of hay, instead. I don’t remember what compelled me to want to climb on the thing. I

a luminous halo


He said it was mysterious. The way I showed up, every evening. Silent and barefoot. With my shoes in my hand. I said she called life a luminous halo. Then she walked into the water. And never walked back out again.

what dreams are made of


Ma never acted her age. She never sat down. Never stood still. She didn’t take naps like Pa did. Didn’t do “grown up” things, where children weren’t involved. She laughed and smiled at everyone. At 70, she still liked to skip and bounce. To go out for ice cream at 9pm. To throw big elaborate

what i want


I want to see Petra. I want to stand on the road to Damascus. I want to yell into the Grand Canyon and off of the Great Wall of China. I want to sit in that Milanese noodle hall. Stare at a Florentine’s image of a blue-eyed Christ. I want to climb Machu Picchu and

wading through molasses


I started cussing when Ma died. Hard core mouthfuls. Obscenities I never knew I knew. It was the only thing that made me feel better. It was the only thing that made me feel good. And I liked it. That’d be hard for Ma to handle, if she knew. I don’t have to imagine what

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