A story, a picture
Late summer, 2010. Hiking in the White Mountains with Jon. No kids, just us, on a vacation paid for by his work in honor of ten years of service. On the way back down, we stop by a little waterfall. My...
View ArticleStill here
I’m just very quiet. I can’t speak to how all depressed minds work, merely my own. During low periods, my ability to think linearly tends to shrink. Instead of traveling from point A to point Z, with...
View ArticleThe perfect day
The perfect day doesn’t start at dawn. Not even at breakfast. It’s only in our heads that time is regimented so. No, the perfect day begins much later. You’ve already walked for an hour or so, and the...
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