walk with me down the trail
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 wrote our stories.
We’ve left the RV life for now, but these weekly vignettes still explore 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.
Pequeña Estrella
We were up on the ridge, me with a little star in my pocket and the light of a cloudy, icy day in my eyes. But those eyes hadn’t seen the sky-stars in days.
Avalanche Lilies
Why does a flower have more meaning when we know its name? As if identification confers value. As if possession is knowing.