Working On The Book / Minding My Time

I took this photo of myself the other day when I reached the end of my rough draft. I'm holding the draft, all 271 pages of it. That was a happy night, and I celebrated with a few emails and phone calls. And a couple beers.

Of course I'm still not done. The work goes on. Editing. Rewriting. Adding new things. Taking out sentences that make me cringe. Smiling when I come across things that I'm proud to have written. The work of writing goes on, and I'm happy to do it. Leaving a long trail of words for the reader to follow.

The book improves each time I go over it. This is a satisfying thing. And one of these days I'll pick up where I left off on my search for a publisher. But for now I'm just enjoying the beautiful struggle of creation.

I've been working hard, many long days and late nights, and I thank my family and friends for their support. I need and appreciate it very much. Many people come home from their jobs and talk about the day with their family or friends. I take a break from my writing so I can write about writing.

And when the words get heavy and the glare of the computer screen gets to be too much, I like to rest myself in the old hammock of music. I listen to songs, or play my guitar, of work on some lyrics that suddenly flash across my mind's window like birds in the twilight.

And the great deadline of death is there in the distance. Moving closer. Looming. Challenging me. Death and life weigh heavily on my mind. Two of my friends died last month: Dr. Vladimir deLissovoy and Faye Beavan. They were peaceful deaths, each one at the end of a long and good life. My love goes out to their families, now and always, for the grieving process is one that never really ends. I've been thinking about Dr. D and Faye quite often, remembering them when I come across a part of my book that I know they would have enjoyed.

I knew Dr. D for a long time, ever since I was a young boy in State College. He and his wife Charlotte were kind and generous neighbors. They taught me things and told me stories. Just like my parents, they encouraged my curiosity. And later on, after I finished college, Dr. D and Charlotte were always very supportive of my writing, which is something that I greatly appreciate.

Now I met Faye through my friends the Batemans: Travis, Graham, Valerie, and Russell. Faye was Valerie's mother, and Travis and Graham's grandmother. She was always there at the backyard parties and holiday parities, smiling, laughing, telling stories, singing. The last conversation I had with Faye was actually about music. I played and sang my song for Jean Shepherd, and she started telling me about the songs that she had written.

Both friends will be missed and remembered, by me and many others.

We affect each other, we really do, sometimes more than we realize. There's a lot of minor chords out in the world, but there's a lot of love too. Love is a pretty cool thing because it doesn't require money, just time. Time, when you think about it, is really one of the most valuable things that we have. Thanks for reading and thanks for sharing your time with me.

Fondly (which is a sign off that I borrowed from Dr. D),
Jeff

Inauguration Day 2009

Our Inauguration Day adventures started in College Park, Maryland. I was with My sister Janice and my friend Abe. We woke up at 3:30 a.m. and left the office where we had stopped to nap for a few hours. We layered up, packed our pockets with food and water, and walked out into the cold.

We walked toward the College Park / U of M metro stop. "Wow," I said as we crossed Route 1, "traffic isn't too bad." We looked up and saw a waning crescent moon in a mostly starless sky. The sky was full of muddy light--muted, colored light, a sort of reddish, purplish glow--for it seems that the sky never really gets dark in the city. That's just the way it goes when you share the same space with several million other people. Light pollution hides the stars, even on the clearest of nights.

We walked on. Then we saw the tail lights. With many years of Beltway traffic under my belt, I can spot a set of brake lights at over 200 paces. Traffic was backed up all the way down Paint Branch road. "Wow," said Janice. "It's a good thing we drove down last night."

"Yeah," said Abe, "and it's only gonna get crazier."
"The madness had begun!" I shouted. "Finally!"

We didn't know what we were going to find in downtown Washington D.C., but we were going to head down and find it for ourselves. All the pre-inauguration jabbering was making me sick. The negativity and pessimism of the media had even infiltrated the minds of my some of my friends and family. People can't predict the future, but they sure like to speculate about it.

Although the traffic around the metro was backed up, people were just sailing right through the metro turnstiles. Abe and I had our SmartTrip cards. Janice waited in line and got a commemorative fare card that had Obama's face on it.

A little after 5:00 a.m., we were riding the steel rails of the green line toward the Big Party. The ride was fast. The scene was quiet and calm. Lots of yawning and staring. People resting their eyes. I felt a tightness in my stomach and around my neck. It was all the layers I had on--7 layers on my top, plus the binoculars and my camera bag, which were dangling around my neck. Janice had 9 layers on her top half. I think Abe was wearing around 6 or 7 like me. We were warm and hopeful. Our train car eventually filled up, but not much fuller than morning rush hour.

We got off at L'Enfant Plaza. The underground tunnel was crowded. Metro workers in neon vests were directing people toward the exits. The crowd was large but orderly. We followed the flow of people up and out of the metro and into the cold morning air.

Huge tour buses were parked in long lines on the side of the road. The air reeked of diesel exhaust. Police lights punished my eyes. "Two-sided Obama Ts. Get your Obama Ts!" shouted one vendor. "Ten bucks! Only ten bucks!" It was 5:30 in the morning and it was still dark out. A constant stream of people were flowing down the middle of the road. We followed the crowd and continued toward The Mall.

The roads around the Mall were closed to traffic. Pedestrians were suddenly the dominant species. It felt good to walk down the center of the street. I was warm, warm enough that I could operate my camera with bare hands because my hands seemed to stay warm from my excess body heat. "How ya shootin' this? Wide open?" I asked Janice. Janice also had her camera out, and we were both taking photos while we were walking.

We moved along with the tired masses. We followed the crowd west down Independence Ave. We watched as a bus full of State Troopers got ready to unload. Janice dropped a glove and tried to go back, but the pedestrian flow was too strong. People were not mean, and they were not in a hurry, but they were anxious, they wanted to maintain their forward progress. It was obvious that everyone wanted to get to The Mall and claim their place as close to the action as they could.

Not long after Janice lost her glove, we found ourselves near the corner of Independence and 9th St. We knew where the Mall was--it was to the north--so when we noticed a small path leading that direction, we decided to take it. People were saying that you couldn't get through that way, but other people said you could. We went for it.

The Secret Path worked, and soon we were on The Mall. Standing on The Mall, we were immediately caught up in the wide parade that was walking east toward the Capitol. Everyone was moving in that direction, a mighty pilgrimage toward the Capitol, so we did the same. Here's what it looked like:



Oh, what a glorious sight! The Capitol was lit up, glowing like a great beacon of hope and freedom. And people were walking toward it. Walking and shuffling, trying to stay warm in the below freezing temperatures. And behind us, to the west, was the Washington Monument, also lit up, but not quite as brightly.



We walked as close as we could and stopped when we the people in front of us stopped. We stood our ground and claimed our position on The Mall. People opened up chairs and sat down. Others laid out blankets so they could rest. I looked at my watch: 6:05. Six hours till Obama took the oath.

I got out my binoculars and looked at the Capitol. I could see the podium and the people working to set things up. They were working and we were waiting. The crowd piled up behind us. The Air and Space Museum was over to our right. We were standing somewhere between the streets of 4th and 6th. The closest jumbotron was over to our left.

People jammed and crowded around us. Some talked on cell phones, trying to locate their friends and family. Abe and I laughed at the absurdity of one person's directions, "We're near the light, over by the tree." Maybe they found each other. Who knows?

We could see one of the far jumbotrons, the one in the ticketed section. A constant image on the screen told us that we were in fact at the correct party: The 56th Presidential Inauguration. I used my binoculars and also the zoom feature of my camera to get a better look at the Capitol and the large screen.



An annoying college kid with a high-pitched voice--who was standing behind us at the time--spoke up: "It says it's the 56th inauguration, but Obama is the 44th president. What's up with that?"

I just thought to myself, you gotta be kidding me, man. I looked over at Abe and we smiled. Janice turned around and said: "He's the 44th president because some presidents served two terms."
"Oh," said the guy.

I leaned over to Janice and whispered, "well done." The college kid and his girlfriend eventually walked away.

The scene was quiet and cold as we stood there in the crowd waiting for time to pass. People huddled on the ground and tried to sleep. Janice and Abe sat down to rest for a little bit. I kept standing, taking photos and writing in my notebook. I ate a couple small bags of trail mix and sipped a little cold water. Calories are king when it's cold out.

Over to our right, I saw the moon above the Air and Space Museum. I imagined the rockets inside blasting up to the moon. Ahead of us, the sun was rising, brightening the sky behind the Capitol. I kept the glove on my left hand, while the cold naked fingers of my right hand worked the buttons on my camera.


Some people slept--they leaned on each other and curled up like friendly cats. Others were talking and laughing, feeding themselves and smoking cigarettes. A man started a chant, "Yes we can! Yes we can!" and the people right around us joined in for a few rounds. I just kept watching the sky behind the Capitol. Sunrise on Inauguration Day: I was glad to be standing there. It was the dawn of a New Day. The sun was about to shine upon a New Era in American history. I prayed for safety and well being. Janice, Abe, and I had not been searched. I wondered how many other had slipped through the cracks like us.

The sky grew brighter. We stood our ground as people tried to squeeze in around us. I felt the heat disappearing from my toes. Some Boy Scouts came by handing out American Flags.

The sky grew lighter and the people grew colder. Standing for hours in the cold is serious business, and I could see that many of the people around me were not dressed properly. "There's definitely some miserable people out here," said Abe, and I knew he was right. One girl walked by--her teeth were chattering. People on the ground were shivering. I had checked the weather online the night before. I knew it was probably in the 20s. Maybe even down around 10 with the wind chill.

The jumbotron near us turned on and people started cheering. They posted information about staying warm. People talked anxiously about "the warming stations," that were rumored to open up at 8:00 a.m. And while the people waited for the warming stations, they ensconced themselves with blankets and scarves. Hoods were donned. Coats were zippered the whole way up. Survival Mode. We saw a person up in a tree over to our right, but they were eventually told to come down. Behind us, a cherry picker type machine, with a completely enclosed cab, seemed to be monitoring the crowd around us. And on top of all the museums were people in camo clothes.

The Mall had become a sea of humanity. It was ebbing and flowing and giving off heat and sound vibrations. I was surrounded by miles of people. And the Crowd was still growing. I knew we were going to break 1 million, but I wondered by how much. Could we hit 2 mil? It was still hours before the swearing in. The people had come out early and strong. It was a joyous crowd, helpful and friendly. People around us shared blankets and hand warmers. Friends helping friends while the day grew lighter.

And soon it was light out. I was able to see the colorful clothing of the people around me. I looked through my binoculars again, staring at the Capitol to see the progress that the crew was making. As I looked ahead of me, to the east, I marveled at heat waves that were in the air above the crowd--the same heat waves that I was used to seeing in the summer above the road. "Check it out, Abe," I said as I handed the binoculars to Abe, who was standing to my right, "you can see the heat waves." The precious heat was escaping, rising up to the heavens.

I was glad that I had brought my binoculars--I almost forgot them, but thanks to a phone call from Matt Brezina the night before, I had remembered. My pockets were stuffed with food and water because I knew that backpacks were not allowed. I also had a small notebook. I got out my notebook and wrote down some details before they escaped. Abe noticed a large hawk up in a nest in the nearby tree tree, and I passed my binoculars over to him. The following photos were taken by Janice at around this time.







Time went by and my feet grew colder. My body was plenty warm, but my feet were not insulated enough. The cold rose up into my ankles and my calves. People around us were getting colder too. People were dancing and jogging in place to stay warm. Anything to get the blood pumping and the heat moving. Standing in one place on a cold day was surprisingly tiring and painful, but the people endured. We wanted to be there. We were excited to be there. I kept watch on the flag that was flying in front of the Capitol. It was flying perfectly in place. With a good wind coming down from the north, the flag unfurled to the south. I stared at that one modest-sized American Flag that was there in front of the Capitol, flying above the podium and under the cold sky of January.

At just past 8:00 a.m. they started replaying Sunday's concert on the jumbotron. Bruce Springsteen started things off with a rocking version of "The Rising." People started cheering and dancing. Famous people spoke in between the songs: Laura Linney, Tom Hanks, Jack Black, Tiger Woods, and the eldest son of Martin Luther King, Jr. They brought up the names of the great American heroes: Abraham Lincoln, Franklin Delano Roosevelt, John F. Kennedy, Rosa Parks, Martin Luther King, Jr. Inspirational people from the past. All eyes were fixed on the large screen. People danced and sang along to what appeared to be a truncated version of "American Pie." James Taylor played his song, "Shower The People." Then U2 came out and honored the spirit of Martin Luther King, Jr. with their song "Pride (In The Name of Love)." A great song for a great day. The emotions were very strong and I felt the tears pool up in my eyes. As an American and a human being, I knew that I was tied to a long and painful history. The evolution of Love has not been easy. The sins of the past and the present saddened me deeply, but as I heard that Irish band play, I was reminded of the power of Love and the great potential of the human race. And all around me I saw the proof that King's Dream was still alive. His love and his strength were alive in the hearts and the minds of the people around me. We the American People had chosen Barack Obama to lead us because we wanted to make things better, not only for ourselves and for our families, but also for our America and for our World.

"Blessings are not just for the ones who kneel, thankfully," sang Bono, as the band closed out their second and final song.

The power of Song, the power of the written and spoken Word--powerful forces and powerful tools. Simple tools in an age of complexity and digital mayhem, buy they were good tools. They worked. The crowd was fired up. We were ready. Springsteen and Pete Seeger gave us a fine version of "This Land is Your Land." I leaned over to Abe and started telling him about the extra lyrics to the song that aren't normally sung. And just was I was doing so, Bruce and Pete launched right in to those exact verses:

As I went walking I saw a sign there

And on the sign it said "No Trespassing."

But on the other side it didn't say nothing,

That side was made for you and me.

Nobody living can ever stop me,

As I go walking that freedom highway;

Nobody living can ever make me turn back

This land was made for you and me.

Yes! Sing On! Take us on down that Freedom Highway! Well done Bruce and Pete! Uncle Woody would have been proud.

After Woody's song the two-day old concert broadcast ended. 10:00 a.m., time for the inauguration events to began. Live Coverage began on the jumbotrons. A choir started singing the words, "Yes we can," and the crowd sang along. It's interesting how a large crowd loves a strong rhythm, something they can clap their hands to. The voices were loud and free. Around this time I decided to take a walk. I headed over to the little plastic bathrooms. And then I went off to explore. There were long lines to get into the warming stations that were inside the museums. People were trying to stay warm any way that they could. I saw people wearing plastic bags and cardboard boxes. They stood on Styrofoam and cardboard in order to block the cold. They made barriers to block the wind. They huddled together and wrapped themselves in blankets or whatever they could find. It was not a time for vanity. Function ruled over fashion. People survivng and thriving and waving those little American flags around.

I walked back and rejoined Janice and Abe. We got out some food and ate what we had. The sun was shining down from the southeast. I could see the sunlight on the people's faces and on the east side of the Washington Monument. We were cold but our spirits were happy. The Big Party was gaining momentum.

Eventually the Big Names started arriving. We watched the jumbotron as the special guests walked down the steps in front of the capitol and took their seats. There were gigantic cheers for Jimmy Carter and William Jefferson Clinton and Al Gore. And there were huge boos for George Bush and Dick Cheney. Those men were booed twice: the first time was when the cameras showed them coming down the stairs, and the second time was when they were formally announced. The crowd was peaceful but unforgiving. They knew what they liked and what they didn't like, and they were not afraid to voice their true feelings. "Ah, don't boo," said the lady behind us. But there was no way to stop the will of the Crowd. Our speech was loud and free.

Despite my best efforts, my feet were locking up, getting cold, painfully cold. I comforted myself with one of my mantras: The body is weak, but the mind is strong. I knew the pain was only temporary. "How do your feet feel?" I asked Janice.

"My feet hurt, but at least I can feel them," said Janice. Some winter boots would have been good. I was just wearing my all around tennis shoes with some really thick socks, which was usually adequate for walking or biking, but standing was different. Keeping the feet warm while standing on the cold ground required keeping the heat in and keeping the cold out. I thought about my down booties that were at home. Oh well. I tried to power through the cold foot pain like everyone else. And as my feet ached, I knew that my pain--and also the larger pain of the crowd--was nothing compared to the greater pains of the human race: the tragic deaths, the loved ones lost and beaten, the pains of starvation and hatred and discrimination.

The loudest cheers came at 11:28 and 11:30 when Michelle Obama and her daughters Melia and Sasha came out and took their seats. "Oh-Ba-Ma! Oh-Ba-Ma! Oh-Ba-Ma!"

I knew we were close to blastoff, so I started getting prepared. I took out my mp3 player and prepared my recording equipment.

And soon after that, the invocation started, a long prayer by a man I didn't know. And then Aretha Franklin took the stage to sing "America (My Country Tis of Thee)." Of course the crowd went wild. And then Joe Biden was sworn in to office. The Big Moment was close at hand. We the Crowd were fired up. "Alright Joe!" shouted the lady in front of me as Joe Biden repeated his vows. Joe finished with "so help me God," and the crowd erupted in a long and sustained cheer. The band played a short little number. The brass boomed through the speakers that were a couple hundred feet in front of us. The sound was firm and clear. And then we were treated to "a unique musical performance" by Itzhak Perlman, Yo-Yo Ma, Gabriela Montero, and Anthony McGill. "Air and Simple Gifts" was the name of the piece. And the crowd listened quietly as the last note of the piece hung in the air, and then, 1 minute and 31 seconds later, at 12:04 p.m., we welcomed our new president with a great and wild joy. People waved their flags and jumped up and down. The cheering and the shouting and the happy cries went on for over 2 minutes. The glacial pace of the frozen morning suddenly shifted as an avalanche of human noise echoed out across The Mall. Two minutes of joyful noise! Two blaring minutes! The vocal cacophony eventually morphed into a few more stanzas of "Oh-Ba-Ma! Oh-Ba-Ma! Oh-Ba-Ma!" The Big Party finally had a new leader. The Crowd was elated. Our shouts of joy drowned out all the other sounds. Happy hugs and high fives. A young boy in front of us smashed a half-eaten apple that was on the ground with the heel of his boot. We yelled and cried for 2 minutes and then we were quiet.

"My fellow citizens," began President Obama, "I stand here today humbled by the task before us, grateful for the trust you have bestowed, mindful of the sacrifices borne by our ancestors."

We feasted upon the words of our President. The bread of Hope. The milk of Truth. And the sweet honey of Freedom. He reminded us about the good things that we had accomplished, and also about the work that needed to be done. He spoke like a wise and caring leader, wiser than his years and more caring than our previous leader.

And we the people listened to his words, words that had been carefully chosen and properly delivered. We punctuated our president's sentences with cries and yells, and alrights and amens, and sometimes, even, a sentence or two of our own like: "That's all we want is hope, baby. That's all we want is hope."

We listened to our President with open ears and minds and hearts. And when he was done speaking, the crowded started to move. A poem was read, but only some were listening. The pain and the cold were too much for many. People were ready to go home. But Janice, Abe, and I stuck around. After some of the crowd moved away, we saw all the garbage that was left behind. Plastic packaging, newspapers, bags, bottles, cans, American Flags. The floor of The Mall looked horrible. And the wind was blowing the garbage around. I couldn't believe all the junk that the Crowd had left behind. I was ashamed and saddened, but it didn't take long for the good people to step in and take action. Ordinary people set up cardboard garbage cans and brought out garbage bags. They bent over and picked up the garbage with their gloved hands. We helped out for a little while. It felt good to reach down and stretch my aching back. My feet were still painfully cold and sore from the hours of heat loss. Due to the pain in my feet, I walked slowly and awkwardly, and all around me I watched people doing the same. We hobbled about, limping like the tired crowd that we were.

Janice, Abe, and I enjoyed the spaciousness of the Mall for a little while, resting, stretching, sitting, picking up garbage and searching for some Obama buttons. The exodus had been mighty and swift. Of course other people were sticking around too--some sitting, others helping out with the clean up effort.

Eventually we headed off to catch the metro home. We had no desire to wait around for another two hours just so we could see the parade. So we moved south, slowly, following the long line of people that were headed (it seemed) to the closest operating metro station.

And as my sore feet carried me down the road, I knew that I was walking away from something good. I felt a great power and inspiration rise up through my tired body. I had seen the tears of pride and joy in the eyes of my fellow Americans, for there has always been--and there will most likely continue to be--rocks and branches and twists and turns along that wide and mighty Freedom Highway. I was happy that things had gone so smoothly. And I was amazed at the good behavior of the Crowd. Such a happy and peaceful crowd. Yes, we were lazy at times. And yes, we might have complained more than we should have. But at the end of the Big Party, we could all take pride in knowing that we were there, bearing peaceful witness with unprecedented unity as Barack Obama became the 44th president of the United States of America.

Day 1

This story starts on Day 366, the last day of 2008. It was a full day of friending and celebrating. We all met over at Andy's home. It was his birthday: he was born on New Year's Eve. Andy's family was there, and also his wife Nora, Jake and Christina, Matt and Jenny, and also our friends Brian and Sara and their little girl Maddy. A fine night for celebrating. Jake and I put the finishing touches on the sangria. We feasted on a batch of soft pretzels that Andy and Nora had just brought down from Philadelphia, while Andy and Jake's finely-tuned Pandora stations played on the stereo.

Eventually Brian and Sara had to leave because Maddy had to go home and go to bed. I was temped to stay at the party, but I hardly ever get to see Brian and Sara because they live in Baton Rouge. So I followed Brian and Sara back to Brian's parent's home, which is where they were staying. No crowded bars for us that night. Just three friends sitting in a quiet living room, talking and telling stories. Brian and I stayed up 'till well after 2:00 a.m. Then I poured myself a fresh cup of coffee and got in the car to drive myself home.

Roaring through the darkness on Interstate 70, I couldn't help but think about my brother out in Crested Butte, Colorado. A month or so earlier, I had helped Chris move to Colorado. We drove the old '88 Civic out there--all the way down I-70--and the maroon machine made it! 245,000 miles and still going strong. What a machine!

Nothing like a late night car ride to get some thinking done. I had my iPod on shuffle to keep my mind fresh. I stuck to the speed limit, maybe 5 over. I was sober and wide awake. I saw a few abandoned cars on the side of 70, but the roads were mostly empty. I had been warned by my friends to be careful on the roads, so I of course was on the lookout for any type of erratic driving. I wondered what my brother was doing for New Years. I thought about 2008, especially the later half that was still very fresh in my mind: My cross-country drive with Chris. My 13-day trip out to San Francisco to visit Matt and Phillip and Whitney. Good missions indeed.

I got home around 3:00 a.m. and I was still feeling pretty good so I fired up the laptop and did a little writing. I had put my writing on hold for most of the holidays, and I was more than ready to get back to the editing and rewriting. I worked on the book for a while, and then went to bed.

Later that day, I woke up. I worked on the book some more, one sentence at a time. I spent some time with my mother, who was home from work. Then around 4:00 p.m. Marley started getting excited. I said I'd take him to the dog park, because I could use a little exercise myself.

It was cool out. The thermometer on the back of my bike said 30 degrees. But I was dressed properly. And Marley with his thick winter coat seemed to be fine. I hooked the trailer to my bike and off we rode. Down the familiar roads. Then the downhill. While we were descending, I noticed some huge black objects in the naked branches of the trees off to my left. Are those birds? I wondered. I tapped the brakes a little, and looked up at the trees as I rode by. It looked like a huge turkey vulture soiree. There were probably 60 or 70 birds. Interesting, I thought. I should probably tell Brian about these. (Brian's a bird guy, and he probably knows something I don't about Cathartes aura.)

The image of those birds really stuck in my mind. They were all hanging out near the tops of the trees, sitting there like a bunch small bear cubs, weighing the branches down and dreaming of carrion and meat. When I passed the vulture party, I noticed that there seemed to be a human party happening on one of the nearby residential streets. Perhaps the birds had been lured there by the hot scent of roasting flesh. Hard to say.

A mile or so later, Marley let our a little cry as we rode up a hill. "Easy beast," I said. "We'll be there soon." He seemed to understand, but it's hard to say what goes through the mind of dog.

At the dog park, 3 people were standing around and 4 dogs were walking around. It was close to dark. I unleashed Marley and he took off, going counter clockwise around the perimeter of the dog park in his usually way. He made it about one third of the way around and then took off running with some kind of pointer. I got out my down jacket and put it on. I took off my helmet and then took off my hat. I turned the hat inside out and put it back on, that way the non-sweaty side would be against my head. (That's a little trick I made up a while ago, probably on some winter camping trip or something.) I got out my note pad and made a few notes for my book: parade, bridge noise/vibrations, people and their flags. I didn't need to write down the whole idea, just a word or two so that I wouldn't forget to remember the idea.

The wind was blowing that evening, and people were complaining about the cold. I instantly started scolding them in my mind: Hey, you wanna know something? It's really not cold if you're wearing enough clothes. You do know it's winter, right? Have you been outside in the winter before? Do you even know how to dress yourselves? Try a hat and some windproof pants, then get back to me. Oh, people are silly. I guess cars and buildings have become like coats for many people. They'll learn. Or they will be cold.

The sun was setting in the west and the wiry branches of the trees were silhouetted by the red and orange light in the sky. I stretched my back (which has been giving me some discomfort the last year or so) and I let out a little moan. I thought about summer 2009, and the adventures that were beginning to take shape. I knew I'd be fine. I knew the exercise would probably be good for me. But I still allowed myself to worry a bit.

I listened to the sounds around me. Dog tags jingling. Women talking. I could hear cars driving by on the road. And I could heard the birds singing. I looked up at the Moon. There was a bright light beneath it. Was that Venus? I desperately hoped so. Robert Hunter's words leap from pages in my mind.

"Counting stars by candlelight, all are dim but one is bright: The spiral light of Venus, rising first and shining best, From the northwest corner of a brand new crescent moon."

I rounded up Marley with a dog treat, and strapped him in to his seat. I got out my lights and turned them on. A white light in the front. Red light in the back. And home we rode. Me and Marley at the beginning of another year. On the way home I stopped to see if the vultures were still there. They weren't. They had moved on. Maybe they flew East to the waters of the Chesapeake Bay. Maybe they chased the sunset to the West. Perhaps I'll see them again, I thought. Or maybe never. Some events only happen once in a lifetime. Up and down the road we rolled, as the evening commuters aimed their heavy machines in a homeward direction. I saw the moon and recalled of the words of another song, one by Warren Zevon.

"The moon has a face that shines on the lake and causes the ripples in time. I'm lucky to be here with someone I like, who maketh my spirit to shine."

I know what Warren was saying. I too feel lucky to be hear. Life is fragile and not that long. I am lucky to have my family, and my friends, and my health. And as a writer, I have an endless amount of work to do. I guess that's a good thing. At least it'll keep me busy this year.

Happy New Year, friends. Peace and Happiness to all.

Song For Jean Shepherd

It's Christmas Eve and I'm sitting at home with my family watching A Christmas Story. Ah yes, it's that time of the year again. Time to revel in the Ritual. Time to fire up the old Quasar television and let The Film play. Those classic characters! Ralphie. The Kid Brother. The Mother. And of course the Old Man. Jean Shepherd's words ring true any time of the year, but they are especially potent during the wild and woolly Days of December.

Well I'll get right down to it: I wrote a song for Old Jean. I know that he probably won't ever hear it, but I wrote it anyway. Jean Shepherd needed a song. I wanted to hear someone sing about Jean. So I had to write one myself. I didn't have much of a choice.

And now the song is done. For now. Songs are strange little worlds. Some times they stand on their own, and sometimes they need a little more attention. I'll probably change a few lyrics as time goes by. But for now I'll set it down the way that I wrote it.

So Happy Holidays, my friends. Here are my lyrics to "A Holiday Song for Jean Shepherd":

IN GOD WE TRUST, ALL OTHERS PAY CASH
THAT WAS ONE OF YOUR BOOKS
THE RADIO SHOWS AND THE TV PROGRAMS
YOU REMINDED US TO LAUGH

A CHRISTMAS STORY CAME OUT IN '83
YOU WERE GONE IN '99
NOW YOU'RE STILL SHINNING LIKE SOME MIDWESTERN STAR
THANKS FOR TICKLING OUR MINDS

MILLIONS OF EYES LOOKED UPON YOUR MOVIES
BUT NOT EVERYONE KNOWS YOUR NAME
THAT'S HOW IT GOES WHEN YOU'RE JUST THE WRITER
WE DON'T ALWAYS GET THE FAME

YOU BROUGHT HONOR TO WARREN G HARDING
YOU WERE A SOAP CONNOISSEUR
RESPECT THE FLAGPOLE / ENTERTAIN THE MASSES
SUCH A SKILLED RACONTEUR

SCOTT FARKAS HAD THOSE YELLOW EYES
THE OLD MAN LOVED HIS MAJOR PRIZE
YOU HAD YOUR RED RYDER BY YOUR SIDE
SUCH A WONDERFUL LIFE
SUCH A WONDERFUL LIFE

AND NOW WE'RE, THROWING OUT THE ROTTEN PUMPKINS
WE'RE CHOPPING DOWN THE CHRISTMAS TREES
WE'RE REUNITING WITH OUR FAMILIES
AND SINGING SONGS OF LOVE AND PEACE
WE'RE DRIVING DOWN THE SNOWY HIGHWAYS
WE'RE CALLING SOLDIERS ACROSS THE SEA
WE'RE BRINGING LIGHT TO SACRED CANDLES
AND CRANKING UP THE BOB MARLEY

THE BEST COOKIES ARE THE ONES THAT YOU DON'T BUY
THE BEST FRIENDS ARE THE ONES YOU HOLD CLOSE BY
TIME IS A TAYLOR, MENDING OUR LIVES
IT'S GONNA BE A WONDERFUL LIFE

TOMORROW / TONIGHT / YESTERDAY AND LAST NIGHT
IT'S GONNA BE BEAUTIFUL TIME

WE'RE WEARING CLOTHES TO CALM THE WEATHER
SOME OF US ARE EVEN GROWING BEARDS
SOMEONE SAYS "JOY TO THE SOBER!"
SOMEONE SAYS "HAVE ANOTHER BEER!"
AND THE WORLD KEEPS SPINNING ON ITS AXIS
WHILE PEOPLE ICE SKATE IN THE PARK
HALF THE WORLD IS DREAMING ABOUT SOCCER
HALF THE WORLD IS ALWAYS IN THE DARK

A CHRISTMAS STORY CAME OUT IN '83
YOU WERE GONE IN '99
NOW YOU'RE STILL SHINNING LIKE SOME MIDWESTERN STAR
THANKS FOR TICKLING OUR MINDS

MILLIONS OF EYES LOOKED UPON YOUR MOVIES
BUT NOT EVERYONE KNOWS YOUR NAME
THAT'S HOW IT GOES WHEN YOU'RE JUST THE WRITER
WE DON'T ALWAYS GET THE FAME

YOU BROUGHT HONOR TO WARREN G HARDING
YOU WERE A SOAP CONNOISSEUR
RESPECT THE FLAGPOLE / ENTERTAIN THE MASSES
SUCH A SKILLED RACONTEUR

SCOTT FARKAS HAD THOSE YELLOW EYES
THE OLD MAN LOVED HIS MAJOR PRIZE
YOU HAD YOUR RED RYDER BY YOUR SIDE
SUCH A WONDERFUL VOICE
SUCH A WONDERFUL VOICE

Fall 2008

My friend Brian Snyder says that fall is his favorite season, and I know exactly what he's saying.

The natural world changes so much from the beginning of fall to the end. Things start green. Then comes the Technicolor blaze of the changing leaves. Then the leaves fall. The trees become bare. The days grow shorter. Thanksgiving comes and goes.

The transition continues until the winter solstice, the first day of winter (which will be December 21 for those of us in the northern hemisphere).

I try to enjoy whatever the seasons give me. The sun and rain. The ice and snow. The green and the grey. My friend Jake Posko always reminds me to seize the seasons, and I try to do my best.

On my daily walks (and various other travels) I've been taking lots of photographs. Fall 2008 has left a strong flavor in my mind, despite all the time that I've spent indoors. Windows help keep the mind free.

Normally when I walk our dog Marley, I usually end up waiting for him. I'll be standing there, waiting to move on, while he's busy smelling something--he's got a lot of pmail to check every morning. But if I bring my camera on a our walk, Marley ends up waiting for me. He'll sit there and wait patiently while I take photographs. He really is a good dog.

Here are some assorted photographs from Fall 2008.

Thanks for stopping by.

Backpacking With Travis and Abe

Not too long ago I went backpacking with Travis and Abe. These photos are from George Washington National Forest in Virginia.

256 Days 'Till The Revolution

Click here to learn about One Million Bikes.org.

August 9, 2009 will be a day for cycling history in America.

Spread the word to all those who might be interested.

Registration is quick and easy.

New Beasts

My sister Janice turned me on to Theo Jansen and his interesting inventions.

The beasts that Theo makes are powered by the wind.

You can see the beasts in action here, and discover more at: http://www.strandbeest.com/

Thanks Jan!

A Time For Congratulations and Hope

Hello Friends,

Happy New Year! For it seems like a new year is upon us. A new era. All around America people are still celebrating. And all over the world, too. Obama stickers and signs and buttons are worn and displayed with pride and honor.

Congratulations to President Elect Barack Obama and to all the people that helped with his campaign. His victory is our victory, and our victory is a victory for the ages--a victory for the World.

Congratulations, also, to my friend Allen Dyer, and to all those that helped with his campaign, especially Tam Dyer. In this past election Allen was elected to the Howard County Board of Education. It was an honor and a joy to work with my friends the Dyers, and I especially enjoyed my time outside the polls on election day. I spoke with hundreds of people as I passed out cards for Allen. I felt the excitement and energy of Democracy in action.

Now is the time to move in a new direction! A better direction! Now is the time to reawaken our hope and faith in humanity! For we can improve. We must improve. If we give in to greed and hate then we all loose. But if we follow the roads of love and respect--those great roads laid down by the brave men and women who have gone before us--then we have the ability to transform this world into a better place.

I was not there for the 1960s, but my country was. And although there is much I could learn about that time period, it's obvious that the 60s were a time of change. A great wave of change flooded this country, seeping--sometimes unbeknownst--into ever heart and every home. That monster wave was so big, and so wide, that its energy can still be felt today. Its momentum still moves us in our quest for peace, in our search for equality, and in our long walk to freedom.

Take it easy, my friends, but take it. Speak softly and carry a big smile, notebook, camera, basket of food--anything but a big stick.

Some Good News (Words From A Concerned American)

Hello comrades,

Today is a great day to be alive in America! There are many reasons to rejoice and be glad: we are living and breathing in a beautiful country, surrounded by many good and honest people, with our freedoms and our rights and also--this is very important--the potential to move this country forward in this critical time. Today we are also one day closer to seeing President Bush take that short walk out of the White House and into some dark limousine that will carry him far far away. Many of you have probably seen the bumper stickers advertising his last day: Jan 20, 2009. It seems that a great number of us will be happy to see him go. Recent poles say that 70% of Americans disapprove of the work that Bush is doing. This fact gives me hope, but I'm still a little worried. Why am I worried? Because recognizing what's wrong is not the same as knowing what's right. But hold on for a second. I want to step away from politics, just for a few paragraphs, because there is more good news to deliver.

Today, my friends, is the day that we receive a new Bob Dylan album into the vast and rich canon of American music. Today we accept another gift from one of our most gifted songwriters. Today is the day Dylan fans everywhere will rejoice and celebrate! Tell Tale Signs, is the name of the album. Another secret and vast gold mine has been opened. Let the music play! And let the words be heard!

In the Tell Tale Signs version of "Dignity," Dylan shows us that he's been looking around and paying attention. "Soul of a nation is under the knife," sings Dylan, "death is standing in the doorway of life."

What is this country doing? What is happening here? Are the red and blue magnets of politics pulling us away from what really matters? Money is not the big issue here, folks. Money is a tool, a simple tool, and it needs to be handled correctly and responsibly, and this is an issue, but let's not forget that there are more important things at stake here:

People, people's rights and choices, Nature, the world, the environment, education, freedom, peace, health, happiness, truth, respect, honesty, science, art--I value these things (and thankfully so do millions of other Americans) and come November 4 you better believe I will be exercising my right to vote. (I'll be voting for Barack Obama, but you probably already knew that.)

But stay with me friends. There is more good news.

The next American president, no matter who it is, will not hold all the power. We are over 300 million strong, my friends! We are the heart and the soul, the mind and the muscle, the hands and the backbone of this fine land! From the Redwood forests to the Gulf Stream waters! From the green hills of Oregon to the ancient curves of Appalachian Mountains! From the crowded city freeways to the off shore wind farms! This is our country! Our home! Our gift, our burden, our sorrow, and our joy! We, the people, the struggling and the strong, the old and the young, hold the key to whatever future we want. But only together can the key be turned.

I am an American writer, and I felt that these words needed to be said. I sit here today, in my office in Maryland, not a political expert, or a supporter of any political party, but simply a concerned American who wants to see that brighter day, not just for our country, but for the whole world. I've been contemplating these words for some time. I've been emailing my friends, and talking to people, and listening to songs, and searching the Internet. And I've been both shocked and inspired by the things that I have found.

"Flesh shapes the day," sings Tom Morello. And maybe Tom is right. Maybe our actions will ultimately speak louder than our votes. The things we do and say, the way we treat people, and the way we communicate with people--maybe these things matter more than we'll ever know. I try to keep an open mind, even when it comes to politics. How could I be so foolish to think that I know exactly what is right for this whole country? How could any of us be that foolish? We are a diverse country with diverse needs. There are many problems and many possible solutions. There are many things to consider here. But we must consider them, thoroughly and logically, even when the tempers flare and the passions rise. Again we find some poignant insight on Tell Tale Signs, when Dylan sings, "I'm strong enough not to hate."

Ah, but it's not always that easy. People want money. People want power. People want religion. People hate other people who want different things. People act foolishly. People waste money. People waste power. Religion becomes a strange blade, and it gets wielded in places where it might not belong. And people are easily convinced. And good people stand by and watch. And lies are treated like facts, and the real truth becomes hidden like a speck of dust in the belly of a dying tiger.

And where do we end up? Tired and sore, at the end of the day, maybe sitting with our families or our friends. Maybe sitting in front of the computer. Talking about current items and issues. Talking about what we feel, and what we want. It's true, we are selfish animals. We seem to want what's best for ourselves and our families. It's a survival thing, I guess it goes way back.

I try to watch more than the orchestrated antics of the debates and the news. I try to watch what I say and do. I watch how I spend my time and my money, because everyday we vote with our dollars and our hours. The choices we make impact the people around us and also the natural world. The hour is getting late, my friends, and we have a long way to go.

I leave you with the immortal words of the great Woody Guthrie.

Take it easy, but take it.

A New Season

Finally! At last! Fall has come to my little corner of the world! Those summer days and summer nights are gone! Now the days are warm and the nights are cool. The natural world is changing color. Daylight is shrinking and the nights are lengthening. The corn has been harvested. The apples are coming into season. Pumpkins are popping up everywhere I look.

Forget about those college football rankings. Back in the year 1723 Antonio Vivaldi placed Fall in the number 3 spot: after Spring and Summer and before Winter. It's a logical placement, for sure, but Fall doesn't have to be the beginning of the end, the third quarter. It can be whatever we want. The seasons are cyclical and seamless, and we can interpret them however we want. Fall has been coming for weeks. And I've been anticipating it for so long, that it seems to be coming late this year. The seasons are interesting like that. Sometimes we wait and pine for them. And sometimes they sneak up on us like a bolt of black ice lightning.

I find myself enjoying the seasons more as I grow older. Actually, I don't think it's a matter of enjoying them more or less, but rather a matter of enjoying them differently. We see things differently as we age, which is both good and bad. For example: I've always enjoyed looking at the leaves in the Fall. Well now there are names to go with the leaves.

Our 2007 megatransect changed the way I look at the trees. Now, when I see a tree, I immediately wonder what kind it is. Some species are just so obvious: red maple, white pine, sweetgum, tulip poplar--they wear their leaves like name tags. Sometimes the genus and species will pop into my head. Liriodendron tulipifera. Acer rubrum. Pinus strobus. Sometimes I can't remember the name of the tree. And sometimes I come face to face with a tree that I have never seen before. When I returned home after the megatransect, I noticed an interesting looking tree in the forest behind my home. "What's this?" I wondered. "It looks almost like a weird kind of aspen. Crazy! I wonder what it is." Ten minutes later, my good friend Audubon told me that it was the bigtooth aspen, Populus grandidentata. Wow! I was surprised. I never knew there was a type of aspen growing on the East Coast.

Below is what Audubon says about the bigtooth aspen. (From page 324 of National Audubon Society Field Guide to North American Trees, Eastern Region by Elbert L. Little.)

"Easily distinguishable from the Quaking Aspen by the large curved teeth of leaf edges, mentioned in both common and scientific names. Like that species, Bigtooth Aspen is a pioneer tree after fires and logging and on abandoned fields, short lived and replaced by conifers. The foliage, twig buds, and bark are consumed by wildlife."

Ah yes, good old Audubon. I carried that book across the country, along with the Peterson guide. They were my go to books for tree identification. (Actually, to be accurate: I only carried the Eastern editions from central Colorado to eastern Virginia. West of central Colorado, I carried the Western Editions.)

Anyway, I've been working on the megatransect data that I collected last summer. I've been entering the data into an Excel spreadsheet for many months now, and I'm almost done with the data entry. The adventure continues, day by day, tree by tree, cell by cell. And, as always, there are new things to discover. Why just last night, while I was looking through my Eastern trees Audubon, I came across this appropriate paragraph:

"Many broadleaf trees are noted for their brilliant fall foliage. These displays are most dramatic in the Northeast but vary with the species and the year, depending on the weather. The leaves in this section are grouped according to the major fall colors: red, orange, and yellow. Red is produced by warm, sunny fall days followed by cool nights that transform leftover food in the leaves into red pigment. Foliage turns orange or yellow when the chlorophyll, which masks other colors, is destroyed; deep orange is a blend of hues. On a single tree, such as a Sugar Maple, leaves of several colors may appear at the same time. The foliage of other trees, such as the Sweetgum, may show different hues at different times, depending upon soil and climatic conditions."

Thank you Audubon, and thank you Mother Nature.

A very happy Fall to one and all!

Behind The Pages (A Night of Writing)

Well it's a little after 9:00 p.m. on a Saturday night. I'm taking a break from my book so that I can write this post. The book is going well, wonderfully slow I'd say. I'm getting down to the last couple chapters and this is satisfying and exciting. The book is much better than it was before, which is the goal of rewriting, but there is still more work to be done.

Each day, when I start writing, I go back and start working at the beginning of whatever chapter I'm working on. I check over what I've written, and then, when I get to the unedited part, I continue along with the rewriting. In this way, the chapters get read and checked many times before they are finished. The other benefit of this technique is that it helps my mind get in gear for the storytelling.

Right now I'm deep in the Death Valley chapters of the First Bike Tour (summer 2000, Seattle to Vegas). I'm telling the part of the story where Travis, Jake, and I crossed Death Valley at night on our bicycles. Death Valley in California in the summertime is a serious place. Daytime temperatures in the shade reach 120 degrees. The temperature above the road, directly in the sun, can reach 200 degrees (Fahrenheit, of course). It's obvious why we decided to cross at night. Although even at night the summer air of Death Valley hovers around 95 degrees.

As always, there are things to distract me from my writing. Downstairs, my brother and my mom are watching The Endless Summer, that classic film from 1966. Three feet to me left, sitting on a small table, is a new batch of CDs I just got from the library. I'm tempted to delve into Itzhak Perlman's 1990 recording of the Tchaikovsky Violin Concerto in D Major, but for now I am able to resist. Although I do have added interest in the Concerto because my friend Phil Brezina is currently learning the piece at the San Francisco Conservatory Of Music. Phil plays the violin, and this is his first semester of grad school. Phil seems to like living in San Fran. His brother Matt is nearby, and so is Whitney, his girlfriend. The PCH goes up and down the coast. The PCT traverses the mountains. And Yosemite is only 4 hours away. Have fun, Phil (I know you will), and let me know if you happen to find a decent used violin.

I have ear plugs in my ears so I don't get distracted by the music and narration of The Endless Summer. Although I can write with background noise, I prefer not to. I've found that I work best in silence, so that is what I try to give myself.

The Death Valley chapters have been taking me a while. I'm not sure exactly how long. I don't like to monitor my progress in pages or words written. I am both stubborn and pron to being hard on myself. Quantifying or analyzing my progress has never really helped me. Some days produce more words, but other days produce more creative ideas or smoother transitions. It's hard to say which is the better day. Some days the sentences flow. And other days I seem to fight with the sentences as if they were the rusty hinges on the gates of hell.

But the days go by and the writing piles up on itself. I focus on the story that I'm telling. I try to tell it the best that I can. I proceed logically most of the time, but there are times when I find it helps to abandon logic and common sense and give in to the mad spirit of the writing. And although I am comfortable writing about the bike tours of my past, I try not to get too comfortable. There is danger in too much comfort. But the writing process is hard and slow, and the challenge and the pain are usually enough to keep the process fresh. Sometimes I sit on the edge of my chair, because it helps my posture and because I feel closer to the words.

Hiking, biking, driving, busing--these things have helped me learn to love going slow. Countless hours spent climbing up countless mountains--combined with the right thoughts--have helped me learn to love something that is hard and slow. Good writing is also hard and slow, but I'm still learning to enjoy it. It's a hard and lonely process--my mind is one of the hardest bosses that I've ever worked with. And the book is a much longer ride. Those mountains took hours to climb. This book, my first book--the first of the three books I am currently working on--has been a file on my computer for over 3 years. Not quite time out of mind, but it sometimes feels that way. I started writing the book after I graduated college, in the spring of 2005. I originally envisioned a book with three parts--one part for each of the bike tours. But the stories grew, and my writing improved, and now my plan is to separate the big book into three more traditional sized books (200 to 300 pages each). But before the books are done, before your eyes will ever see their pages, there is much more work to be done. Book 1 is progressing, and will be the first one that I finish. Books 2 and 3 have seen some rewriting and editing, but are still very much raw and in need of my attention.

And so now you know a little more about what I am doing: both tonight as well as the bigger picture. After the Death Valley chapters, I will work on the last couple chapters of the book. There's a lot of pressure over beginnings and endings, but I'm trying to stay cool. I remind myself that there need not be any new horses. The same ones that have been running though the book are the same ones that will be there at the end. I simply have to wrangle them up and call them home. Or maybe I need to set them free.

Traveling And Celebrating

Hi Friends and Readers,

I hope everyone is having a great summer. It's been 4 years since I've spent a summer in Maryland, and I'm having fun. Writing. Sweating. Drinking National Bohemian Beer with my friends. Watching movies. Going to concerts like Tom Petty & The Heartbreakers. Going to parties. Eating sushi. It's good to be able to do things that I've missed in past summers: The Dyer Family Pig Party, The State College Arts Festival, Father's Day.

Summers have always been special to me. All four of my bike tours happened in the summer, and so summer feels like the season of travel. My body and mind have been programed. But this summer I'm enjoying my time in Maryland. I'm writing about my past travels, and also enjoying my daily travels. Through my journals and photographs, I've been reliving my time in Yosemite, and I plan on posting some Yosemite pictures sometime soon. Below you will see some more posts about Spain. I might add a few more later.

Now on to the celebration. Today, July 22, was a special day. My friends Travis and Mary both celebrated their birthday today. They were born 27 years ago, and we had a fine party this evening. I missed their co-birthday last summer because I was on the bike tour. And so it was good to gather with family and friends, this year, and celebrate. A warm summer night. Torches in the backyard. The sounds of conversation and laughter. 8 pizzas. 1 chocolate cake. 27 candles. Happy Birthday Travis and Mary! Thanks to Valerie and Russell, Travis's parents, for hosting the co-birthday party!

Travis just got back from Ecuador, where he was traveling for 31 days. He told us about his travels, but I still need to see his photographs.

Travis is not my only friend to use Summer 2008 as a stage for a big adventure. My friend Debbie is currently hiking the 500-mile Colorado Trail with her friend Stacey. She is almost 200 miles into her adventure. Keep up the good work Debbie! Take it easy, but take it!

My brother's good friend Kyle is currently riding his bicycle across the US, following the TransAmerica Trail. He started in Yorktown, VA, and now he's in Montana. Very nice, Kyle, very nice. Kyle's blog can be seen here.

My friends Phil and Miles just finished riding their motorcycles across the United States. They started in State College, PA, and rode west. Miles stopped riding in Portland, OR. Phil ended in San Francisco. I talked to Phil the to other night. He was all excited, the momentum of the adventure was still fresh in his mind.

My friend Hanns has traveled to Thailand, Laos, Cambodia, and Vietnam. He might still be out there traveling, but I'm not really sure. Hanns! Where are you? Are you back in Aspen?

And my friend Jake Belvin is still living and traveling in the Middle East. Jake is stationed in Baghdad. His morale seems to be good, and I've enjoyed reading about his daily adventures and travels on his blog. I look forward to Jake's homecoming and also to our future adventures.

The road is long and life is short. It feels good to get out and stretch the legs and the mind.

Travel safe, my friends, travel safe. I'll talk to you soon.

Jeff

The Pyrenees

We left Spain's East Coast and headed north. We were headed to the mountains. To the town to Torla. To see the rock and snow of the Pyrenees.
Towns on hillsides surprised and excited us.

This was one of the best maps I've ever used. One map, the whole country, lots of fold out pages for the big cities. We made a good choice at the bookstore that day.

Olive trees were a common sight while driving through the Spanish countryside.

I was the driver. Chris was the navigator. Chris also took many photos, like this one.

And this one.

This one too.

This is the town of Torla, which is where we stayed for two nights while we explored the Pyrenees.

We walked this street a lot.

The view from our room.

Chris in our room.

Buenas noches!

Our hike begins here, where the cows roamed.

Such a fine thing to drink straight from the Earth. I didn't think twice about filling my bottle. The water was cold and good, just like it has been for thousands of years.

Higher up in the Ordesa Valley we had good views of the snow-covered Pyrenees Mountains. The Ordesa Valley is in the Ordesa Y Monte Perdido National Park.

These photos are in chronological order. The light was great on the way down. Trees full of living green. Forests full of evening light.

This tree was one of Heather's favorites.

An old beech tree.

One of the longer slugs we came across.

Note to reader: This post was made while listening to Jakob Dylan's "On Up The Mountain" and "On This End Of The Telescope" on repeat.