“We will be nearly finished, I think, when we stop understanding the old pull towards green things and living things, toward dirt and rain and heat and what they spawn.” — John Graves State #50/50: Caught between seasons, my Dad, … Continue reading
(State #48/50) Across the mesa and through the arid grasslands, I traveled before halting at the edge of a cliff. Beneath my wheels, a red clay road zigzagged down, coursing the steep walls of the canyon as it descended eight-hundred … Continue reading
(State #46/50) Morro Bay is an odd town. It’s certainly not Bakersfield, but it’s not Big Sur either. This coastal community is somewhere in between — an agreeable mixture of blue collar and boutique. The waterfront is awash with life. … Continue reading
(State #33/50) My Mother stood, looking impatient and swatting mosquitoes, as I lugged free-ranging laundry from my car and into her rental. In my backseat, I piled junk onto the adjacent seat and crammed some trash under that pile. Then … Continue reading
(State #32/50) I wanted to canoe Lake Superior… easier declared than done as the body of water acts more like an ocean than a lake; its storms whip deadly cold waters into swells, which have destroyed vessels much larger than … Continue reading
(State #29/50) “I’m writing a book on the whole thing.” Josh told us with his perpetual smile. “He doesn’t know it, but he’s one of the main characters.” From hence forth, I will refer to this man — the subject … Continue reading
(State #29/50) We stood peering over the edge. My best friends and I — all skinny and largely void of chest hair — stared down at the river below. From 50+ feet the Current River looked like a stream of … Continue reading
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