My journal of big words and pretty pictures
“I don’t want to keep fighting you.” “That’s hard to believe after that conniption you just had.” “You don’t even know these people.” “I’ve known some of them for 10 years. I’ve seen them get married, have kids, have grandkids. Don’t tell me I don’t know them.” “You’ve never actually met them in person.” “I…
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Stan enjoyed calling his transient life of riding the rails pedestrian. That a seemingly dirt-poor, nomad had a GRE vocabulary, and a finely honed sense of irony, was irreconcilable for many people he met. He often tagged trains he frequented with a modern version of hobo hieroglyphics from the turn of the 20th century. Stan’s…
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Saturday morning, I went on a photo hike for the first time in months. It was Mojave Hot. I was grateful for what shade I did have, and for the water I remembered to bring. I stayed away from the tourist-packed beaches, and instead took a ramble in the woods around Blackwater River State Park,…
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“I’m not a teacher: only a fellow-traveller of whom you asked the way. I pointed ahead – ahead of myself as well as you.” ~ George Bernard Shaw
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Carefree vagabond Leaving all troubles behind Totes home everywhere
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I’ve missed several weeks of photo hikes, and I can tell a difference in my general well-being. These outings were always a restorative exercise. A chance to spend time outdoors, with no worries, no deadlines, no plans other than to take pictures of anything and everything that catches my eye. This weekend, I want need…
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