My brother calls and tells me he found two crates of CDs. “Stuff you’d like.” he says. It sounds like an accusation. I need CDs like I need a whole in my head, but I was intrigued.

A few weeks later, I attend my nephew’s birthday. We sing “Happy Birthday” … Read the rest

“…

Why do I think October is beautiful?
It is not, is not beautiful.
                                                  But then
what is there to hold one’s interest
between the various drifts of a day’s
work, but to search out the differences
                                          the window and grate—
but it is not, is not
beautiful.… Read the rest

The mountains call me. That looks like fun some say. It’s not … fun. It’s something else. Punishment and reward. Mastering the art of suffering. How badly do you really want something? I suffer to stand where few dare to venture. A view where the world opens up wide – … Read the rest

Every summer I send my daughter to camp. Two weeks alone in a woods filled with strangers. She had never been away from home for so long. The first year was hard. She was eleven.

To keep her spirits up and remind her she’s in my thoughts and heart always, … Read the rest

My earliest recollection of doctor’s offices were happy ones. My mom would drive me to Dr. Stagg’s. While she talked to the nurse – an older woman in a white uniform with white shoes and a funny white hat that looked a little like the front part of a sailor’s … Read the rest

The memorial service takes place almost a week after Memorial Day. People in sober suits and dark dresses mill about in groups talking quietly, listening, nodding. Some recognize, and some I don’t. We’re all in long white room filled with chairs. At one end, a handful of floral arrangements surround … Read the rest

“My speech is imperfect. Not because I want to shine with words, but out of the impossibility of finding those words, I speak in images. With nothing else can I express the words from the depths.”

Carl Jung

I meet Anne at the summit of Mt. Starr King in January. I haven’t seen a single soul on the trail all morning. I assume I’m the first one at the peak. But sitting on a snowbank, fiddling with a phone is a woman decked out in winter weather gear … Read the rest

What does it mean to be a dad?

Is it all the books I’ve read at bedtime?

Is it adventures I lead to wild places near and far?

Is it the lessons I teach about balancing on two wheels?

Is it the bandaids I apply to skinned knees and scrapped … Read the rest