I miss the mornings, when there’s no one around. When I would buckle my belt as a state trooper would his holster and start my day sharp as an arrow, aimed at the center. But there is no one to… Read More ›
There is a space between us and the ones we love and I want to understand why we allow that distance. Or talk about what gets in our way of crossing it.
I walked eight miles and didn’t see another soul. Another hundred and I’d cross the Oregon border. I got to the lake, cleared a ledge of snow off by a small stand of trees and pulled out my tent, moving fast to stake it out.