Swing the axe In the hour before daylight Note the sparks That attend to the blade — Jeffrey Foucault, Dishes If I look over the top...

If you keep driving: beyond the outskirts, past the horses and hay bales, to the far side of split rail fences and civilization. If you...

An almost imperceptible shift in the light. A slant of golden, the earth’s turning reflected in sunflowers’ faces. The skies blue again...

I finally returned home to Bozeman this past week after a couple of weeks on the road.  I do love traveling–experiencing new places, and...

I’ve thought about starting a blog, on and off, for years now.  A couple of things really inspired me to jump in: the re-entry into the...