Tread not upon my dreams and memories...
Thursday, February 22, 2018
"It's a beautiful day," I screech in the worst "Bono" imitation ever, then proceed to butcher U2's lyrics like slaughterhouse sheep. My felicity is boundless on Hangover Trail. I've got the sun's warmth on my face, a cool breeze at my back, and views to die for. "It's a beautiful day."
Friday, February 16, 2018
Wistful Reminisce in Jerome (revised due to a dropped paragraph that explains Bobbie's connection to Jerome)
I'm in the mountainside town of Jerome, Arizona, casting a reminiscing gaze over the expansive Verde Valley. Bound by snowcapped San Francisco Peaks to the north, familiar vermillion cliffs to the east, and Mingus Mountain to the west, Verde Valley holds a hoard of memories that range from happy to sad. But I've been coming to this area since before I can remember, and it feels as comfortable as a pair of old cotton sweats.
Sunday, February 11, 2018
"Everywhere he looked, he could see the most vibrant world of life that had no need of him...that would not think for a moment of his vanishing...have no memory of him...would go on without him. He began to fear his imminent death, not because he would die but because he sensed that he had never really lived as he wished. The Narrow Road to the Deep North, Richard Flanagan.