November 15, 2016
Animals in Their Seasons
Autumn rut is well underway. I am listening for bugling elk, their haunting, whale-like calls rising through dusk of bare aspens and sea-green conifers...
December 22, 2014
The Ghost of Mr. Cocker
Up until his death yesterday, Joe Cocker, lived in my neighborhood, which consists of a handful of residences up against the West Elk Mountains in western Colorado...
May 28, 2014
Ancient and enchanting, it is not something that belongs to us. It belongs, rather, to the land itself, its centuries of residence not something we should disturb...
I keep rehearsing in my head what it will feel like to walk straight to these cave-arches, congratulating the compass of my body, but poking down one bedrock draw after the next I see my compass is off...
How many more children could we have? The curiosity will never end. They are each like opening Pandora's box...
Late that night JT and I are running through the dark with torches outstretched, boots crashing through wind-hardened snow. We move fast, as if we had stolen this fire from the gods...
July 17, 2009
Searching for refuge -- and, perhaps, health -- in a sickeningly loud world.
June 15, 2009
The Southwest's good ol' artifact boys
You might have an imaginary picture of the pot hunters and collectors, a crew of dirty, well-armed black-market privateers roving the desert (in the case of many Western pot hunters, you'd be right)...
June 09, 2009
The Memory of Water
It is a hard and beautiful way to
live, counting on ephemeral water holes
like this. You have to be ready for long
periods of waiting, traveling at night to
preserve water in your body, sleeping
in daytime shade...