Not just for the birds
Thirty years ago I spent a month in Turkey. Erika had invited me to join her, and initially I thought it was a bad idea. I'd been chronically depressed and my therapist worried something bad might happen and trigger a personal catastrophe way over there. But I decided to go, and the thought of being …
Eventually, all things merge into one, and a river runs through it. The river was carved by the world's great flood, and runs over rocks from the basement of time. On some of the rocks are timeless raindrops. Under the rocks are the words, and some of the words are theirs. I am haunted by …