Fall’s moody shadows, pine needles, leaves: all that starts from above one day will drop, past the mountain peaks Jack Kerouac walked, they probably looked the same to him too, it’s hard to believe those photos of people in the… Read More ›
memory
Night falls on Teanaway
Ginger licks the sleep out of my eye, licks the insides of the rain fly for condensation, doesn’t understand tent etiquette or the idea of personal space, steals my sleeping bag each time I get up, looks like Kermit the… Read More ›
Coming back, Perimeter Road (SeaTac)
All the houses in the new developments are the color of graham crackers with about as much variety as you’d find in the grocery store, the only difference is in the finishes. The CD player on the Honda Pilot keeps… Read More ›
The world’s a lot bigger the first time
When we got back home to Germany they were building the beer halls outside Stuttgart for the spring beer festival and Eberhard said we would go tomorrow and leave at 2:30 with plans to return by 8 — and I… Read More ›
Not yet remembered
I sometimes wear Eberhard’s Stetson to get Charlotte at school, and stand outside with the other parents waiting for her to appear in the doorway — and when she does and sees me with the hat, she turns pink and walks ahead… Read More ›
Make Believe
Early morning moonlight on frost-covered fields, no sound. The white of the digital screen by the window: outside, the stars are Christmas lights along the roof lines, flickering. It’s like going back to the place where you grew up, everything’s… Read More ›
When a blogger dies, does anyone notice?
There are many parts of my life I can’t remember and there are many reasons for that. I’d like to think of my brain as a well-organized refrigerator: I can reach in there with my eyes closed, and know where… Read More ›
Bill Pearse 