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Alaskan Desert
My boots break through the thin crust, increasing my chill rate. If I keep walking, toes will stay warm, but this is a waiting game. Iced feet are a small price. I will stand still in the center of the marsh, hopefully blending with the old stumps and logs that surround me.
The Man Store
Two weeks ago I spent two-and-a-half days splitting firewood. Down to the too-long, too-gnarly, too-for-whatever-reason-unsplittable logs that required more than…
And Then There Were None
Needless to say, there was no peril. I pose no more threat to those young than their own parents, and without the responsibility of raising them, am free to feel nothing but delight in their well-being.
Owl in Winter Wind
My back to a short, dense Sitka spruce—a lone sentinel against the driving wind accelerating up Gastineau Channel, across the…