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Mornings like this are why I love Spring in the Midwest: a glowing sky, filled with orange light yet threatening rain, o'erspreading the new green trees...it makes up for the fact that I had an absolutely ICY shower this morning. The sky is wide through my windows. (I'm sad I shal'n't have this room next year.) It makes me think of/ pine for travel. Below are a few pictures from my recent trip to the hill country of central Florida. I backpacked (solo) the state's longest loop trail and rode (both ways) its longest bike trail (with a stop at a strange, distant hotel between legs) and, in between these two jaunts, scorched myself on Clearwater Beach...I have hardly any skin left on me. Enjoy!
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Lovely Jewels in Joy Designed

Night Nurse This is a song I first heard one night at the beginning of the magical summer of 2005. Sophia, Paul, and I were on the way home from an afternoon in Milwaukee, and I was feeling down yet expansive and hopeful (as was my wont at the time), lying in the back seat and watching the clouds turn colors with the sunset. I was so struck by its simple, quiet, lovely beauty that I had Paul play it several times. I just heard it for the first time in seven years yesterday, and it brought back a flood of memories, memories of a time where I was not nearly as steadily happy as I am now, a time when I was up and down and open, often at the same time. I think the great struggle I have had, as I get older, is marrying the open expansiveness of youth with the steadiness of maturity (sic.) The two often seem, but don't have to be, mutually exclusive. When I listen to great songs like this, they certainly aren't. It is the last day of the school year, again, and I am in my ...
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The moon casts an odd glow tonight.  I feel far from home and untogether.  Unread and underproductive.  Loud and distorted. Alone with dreams at two in the morning.  Full of thoughts too big. I love my friends and feel thankful - despite everything, I'm never alone. I am a teacher and I live what I do. I am a writer, though sometimes I wonder where it all comes from and where it all goes, and I know it doesnt matter as long as I am moved by it. Chris is a writer of the highest order...a real writer.  Adam's work is full of a fascinating (though deeply cathartic) passion.  Sarah has ideas but they go mostly unsung.   I have been so happy yet so longing. There is more here... In Brin's Woods I came close to saying it. I've been to Switzerland and felt it and saw it, though only for fleeting moments.  Does magic crystallize only in retrospect?   Find the one that lights the way for you. 
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