BEEN THINKING ABOUT …. SPRINGTIME GOBLINS. Old and worn highway winds next to the creek, a creek now obscured by green leaves and the falling dark. Frogs peep. The old town’s yellow street lamps cast globes of light in the creek side forest, illuminating clouds of flimsy Mayflies. The darkness is close, the water down…
BEEN THINKIN’ ABOUT… SUNDAY CIRCUS. I’m flipping through the magazine, looking at pictures of a traveling circus that was documented as it wound its way through the Upper American South sometime in the late 1960s. The photos are in color, and a little grainy. The performers magnificent, but a bit worn. The photojournalist had been…
BEEN THINKIN’ ABOUT… STORYBOOK DIRT. The smell of the leaves is strong in the November dusk, strong and acidic and tannic and luminous, the smell of the forest’s death and rebirth, of the garden and autumn all at once. The sun slipped beyond the west seemingly only moments ago and now all is but dark.…
BEEN THINKIN’ ABOUT… FOREST OR FIRE. Hot afternoons and cold nights and the Ozarks’ oak forest blossomed in crimson, orange, and brilliant yellow. Fall has finally fallen, too late for Halloween, but right on cue. I drive home in awe, even as early dusk covers the hills in a gauzy purple blanket. At some point…
BEEN THINKIN’ ABOUT… JUST A BUNCH OF BULLY GOATS. The sun was warm that spring day in the barn yard and I was tending some 20 goats of all sizes, ages and temperaments. I loved the barn. I loved the goats and would much rather be out in the barn wallowing around with whatever baby…