After the big wind storm last fall and all the downed trees I thought it was time for me to learn how to buck a tree and use a chainsaw properly. I bought the safety gear—the protective chaps, the integrated… Read More ›
journal writing
First date, can’t wait
First date with a girl, spring 1985. I’m 14, a freshman: she’s 16, a junior. An embarrassment to date an underclassmen but there you go. She’s in the band, but beautiful. Mom says you need a “good haircut” which means… Read More ›
Saturday morning entry
Closing my eyes to the after images of weed leaf patterns. The sharp edges of being fully in the now. Taken to mid-morning naps on the sofa in the den with the morning light and pets, a greenhouse warmth and… Read More ›
Your portion of life on a plate
When we got the warning about a violent storm coming we drove to the store for ice cream and organic cheese puffs and gas for the generator in case the power went out. I had gotten the blue light pre-cancer… Read More ›
My heart aches for these days
In the morning on the warmest day it’s still cool but you can feel the temperature start to change. I get to the park earlier than normal and the sky is the color of abalone shell, turquoise mixed with pink…. Read More ›
The algorithm remembers
It’s an ungodly hour, 4 am. Even the heat hasn’t come on yet so it’s just me and the coffee maker, the odd mechanical sounds of the house idling. But I love this time in the dark to sit with… Read More ›
Portrait of a snowman with dead grass for hair
All this snow lying around still, like frosting on a gingerbread house. At the park when it’s still dark walking a path between the setting moon and rising sun. Bit by bit the snow receded, leaving splotches of black stains… Read More ›
First Saturday in Washington
No moon at 3 AM but twinkly stars and lawns covered in white, the failing charge of the solar-powered footpath lights made a weak ghostly hue. Had to look up “what to do about itchy scalp” and wondered, could it… Read More ›
(Hidden bonus track)
Got super wired by many machine-generated coffees leaving Frankfurt. Worried I’d get waylaid with a delayed flight and have to sit there stewing in my caffeine high. Tipped the Afghan taxi driver lots; his life was hell and I believed… Read More ›
One of many endings
BESIGHEIM, 5th—II—2025 Wrapped tightly in my sheets and blankets like being inside a sarcophagus trying to get warm. The tingly feeling something’s about to happen: that’s travel. So foreign yet familiar, my second home. Looking down from the saddle on… Read More ›
Bill Pearse 