It’s Never Just Rain
Far off. In a field, I am running toward a river. My dog flailing at my side. Camera slung around my neck; snow crunching under my boots, patches of …
Far off. In a field, I am running toward a river. My dog flailing at my side. Camera slung around my neck; snow crunching under my boots, patches of …
I walk the river discovering a new direction where cutbanks have sloughed off and bending trees lean with a weary creak meltwater seeps up, whirlpools suck down and everything is …
Copper River break-up The ice has not yet gone out on the Copper River. I’ve come out to our cabin to spend time working on my writing, without distractions, …