Low-angled light, especially in the morning, different angles of light at different times of the year. The low-angled light through the forest when it’s amber colored or even tawny if there’s wildfires. How the impressionists were drawn to that area… Read More ›
You will go much further than you ever thought before you stop. You will even think I should quit, and yet you will keep going. You will do it time and again, and then you will say enough, you’ll stop… Read More ›
The trail is dry at the park and crunches underfoot. For the first time I brought a bunch of people with me to my morning walk, Dawn’s family who’s visiting from out of state. We’d just be out for an… Read More ›
After six months of escalating daylight I was ready for it to end. I’d been falling asleep to an Egyptian oud player with the volume so low it sounded like he was slapping his drum right next to me. It… Read More ›
Watched the Queen movie again with Charlotte and had a piece of my cheek removed by the doctor. Hoping it’s pre-cancerous (as opposed to cancerous) and will find out in a week. Not really worried about it but wondering should… Read More ›
Though it was early morning and a strange time to do it I lit a fire in the firepit with last night’s coals and the logs that were charred and dampened by the early morning rain. It could be hard… Read More ›
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 ›
Springtime is one of the most beautiful times where we live. It’s a bath of sensory delights, especially in early morning. The distant woodpecker rattle, the sweet birdsong as it builds. Some crows and repetitive sounds all layered together. I… Read More ›
There is more life than I can use, so I squander it on fruitless things like video games or bad books or going to bed early. The funny way life inches forward mostly unseen. The spring blooms that would bring… Read More ›
Patches of snow in the foothills on a bleak morning in March. It is your first week sober. You’ve been a daily drinker for 20 years now and this is the longest you’ve gone since you can remember. It is… Read More ›
Bill Pearse 