Last night, on our way home, Jake and I found a large black Labrador running around in the street. He has no microchip and no tags on his collar, but very clearly has a home. We’re trying to find where he belongs. Can you help us?
Days like today remind me of one of my heros, John Muir, and his love of the Sierra. Anyway, I will spare you my feeble and fumbling attempts at describing the majesty of nature and the spirits found in these cathedrals by sharing pictures instead of words. Please enjoy.
I won’t torture you with my poor attempts to describe nature and the transcendent experience of climbing through the intimate spaces of rhododendron and old growth elm trees, but will instead share some photos.
Tonight, along my best friend and his wife, Jake and I watched the 2015 Perseid Meteor shower amongst wolves, laying in the grass and howling at the stars. There’s nothing more awe inspiring than watching the events of space unfold before your eyes to truly highlight just how lucky we all are.
This past Tuesday, the first day of autumn, I fractured the fifth metacarpal in my hand by punching the counter. It wasn’t the smartest thing I’ve ever done. It wasn’t the dumbest either, if you can believe that. On Friday I had surgery to set the bone and insert two (or possibly three, the surgeon didn’t specify and I can’t see my hand yet) pins/wires to hold the finger straight. Since then I’ve had to explain what happened and why more times than I can remember. I figure if it’s that interesting, I should probably write about it. I’ll apologise in advance for the bad flow, sentence structure, and word choice/use ahead of time—I’m on some pretty serious pain killers, guys.