Sometimes it feels like everyone, in juxtaposition to the bluebirds, migrates south this time of year. In a more seasonal time I did that too and now it’s hard to fight the urge… Continue reading
So instead I give you the hollow whumps of combusting pine, the smell of chamomile on cold air and the heaviness of lashes on languid lids.
I’m watching myself and my friends in this cold, frozen Innermountain West remember that the organism of this country is interconnected. That we can’t isolate ourselves on frozen alpine lakes and mountain cirques because this is big enough to come for what we love too.
Yurt trips are like the river trips of the winter months. Friends, a warm fire, good food, gravity and water – just frozen water, that’s all.
Into 2017. How do you arrange your goals and resolutions? Do you have a four goal, drop down tier flow chart system like I do or something, uh, a little more relaxed?
We feel the wet potential of spring, the manic solaria of summer, the slow shedding of fall, the freeze of winter. Today, we feel those shadows inside ourselves as the north pole tilts away from the sun like a dancer pulling her body back from her own arm.
A two night float down the Grande Ronde in Eastern Washington.
If I was making fishing nets for the first time, they would be two by fours hammered together. But of course Wyatt’s nets look like this…
Heading home Tuesday night for the holidays to celebrate what we still have and what we’ve built since.