Not just for the birds
I could never rememberThat seething, steady leveling of the marshesTil age had brought me to the sea--Hart Crane, "Repose of Rivers" Ya stare, ya glare, ya constantly compare meBut ya can't get near me--Shock G, "The Humpty Dance" Hart Crane's incredible poem "Repose of Rivers" shows how memory makes up knowing and how we can't …
"Her name is Rosie", the old man that was camped near us with Florida license plates told me as his dog walked over to me. Rosie, was an overweight black lab with gray on her face and eyes clouded over with glaucoma. "Come on Rosie, don't bother her," he yelled in her direction. I yelled …
The week started off bad. The week also ended with many firsts. Tuesday started with Angus throwing up his morning kibble in the backyard. Later on, he refused a dog treat from the treat jar. This was a first time in his life that he's ever not wanted one of those multi-colored square snaps treats. …
UPDATE 10/21/19: I'm participating in Boise's storytelling institution "Story Story Night" on Tuesday, October 29th, for its "Starry Story Night" event, which weaves together six storytellers' narratives on a theme related to hunting. My part is largely from the piece I published in Gray's about Angus and other things. We've rehearsed several times now, and …
Friday, August 30th. It was warm outside, t-shirt weather, and I was hoping for a crisp, cool morning on grouse opener but the air felt thick and muggy. You could hear a pin drop in all of its calmness. I worked my way up through the deep draw that was nestled between stands of tall …