The Wind


Life is hard in the desert. Spikes cover all the vegetation, rain rarely falls, and the wind – constant and relentless – blows for days and days.

The wind buffets and rocks the RV, making her feel more like a sailboat than a land vehicle. The gusts reaching speeds over 65 miles an hour. The dried brown grass and shrubs bend to the northeast from the force of the moving air. The two hawks, a mated pair, who have soared the skies daily near camp, have gone to ground and the roadrunners – ever present – are nowhere to be seen. I run into town for more water, filling two jerry cans for the next couple days. It would be foolish to drive the RV in winds like these. I hunker down – like the hawks – waiting for Nature’s approval to leave.

(I was reading Hemingway on my Kindle today, if you haven’t figured it out by now).

A Pausing Place


I’m hanging out near Charleston, SC for bit. Not so much because I’m attracted to the area, but because I’m coming to the end of this phase of Act IV and I have a few more things to do before I head out West…

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Veteran’s Day


I think of myself as an un-idealistic pacifist – I try to be a nice, considerate guy but when pushed, I don’t allow people to walk all over me. Touring the aircraft carrier Yorktown left me with a that old queasy feeling I often get around weapons…

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Out My Window


Overcast day. Rain soon. Weekend campers arriving to claim their spaces. I work inside today. Alan Parsons and The Moody Blues resonating from the stereo. Contemplating my direction, my message, my meaning. I like days like this.

Out My Window & Thinking Too Much


Left Bethel this morning and am staying in the Paul Bunyan Campground outside Bangor, Maine for a few days. This is a shot outside my window. Most everyone is gone now that Labor Day weekend is practically over. Very, very pleasant.

I received an email from my brother the other day, and I wanted to copy my response for you – the lesson being: DON’T even try to get it right the first time. It’s a waste of effort and time…

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Meditating on Eternity


I was watching a little Ben Hur in the evening, and, upon viewing the scene where Christ gives, under the threat of death, the enslaved Charlton Heston, a drink of water, I thought, “What if we all could live like that, without any fear of dying, living without fear of oppression, social norms or peer pressure?” I went down to the river behind the RV and meditated on that awhile.

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Wandering The Woods Awound Bethel, Maine.


It was cold and windy this morning (and apparently I’m a wimp) so I didn’t go kayaking. Instead I got some work done at the Mouse & Bean Internet Cafe then headed out into the woods of Bethel on my motorcycle.

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