The Vignettes
Walk with me down the trail.
For two years, we lived in a tent trailer while traveling the American West. To document the kind of adventure I’d never have again, I told our stories through weekly vignettes.
We’ve left the RV life for now, but still continue to recount adventure’s ups and downs, our relationship with the outdoors, the wonderful disaster of parenting, and the struggle to catch lightening in the creative bottle.
The Fear and the Thin Line
And I was scared. Not the heart-pounding, I-have-to-get-out-of-here-scared, rather an intense awareness of my aloneness.
The Vanishing 29th
It’s a day that does exist consistently but intermittently; it comes along every four years only to go into hiding afterwards. Maybe that’s why it’s fresh enough to perform the re-alignment. To do Atlassian work but with a four-year breather.
Color in the Growth
Before it seems possible, feasible, or wise, it’s sending out new growth. Those branches are smooth and shiny with a hint of optimism. They reach directly for what they want – the sky – and their path is straight.
The Bell Curve and the Halfpipe
But just like that part of the mountain, the remarkable stands so close to average. Incredible talent can sit alongside the so-so. It does this in me and in you and in each of the children out there that day.
Morning Dynamite
“Look,” I said to my group-mates, while pointing up with my pole, “that’s where they bombed.”