just a few friends When a writer starts thanking some people, he is bound to forget others. The appearance of ingratitude, certainly actual ingratitude, is not a condition into which a person should strive. For a long time, I told…
Far away places, with strange soundin’ names Far away over the sea Those far away places, with the strange soundin’ names Are callin’, callin’ to me -lyrics by Joan Whitney and Alex Kramer Back in mid-July I went fishing…
time and again I do not believe my father remained a fly fisherman long after I moved away from Moab. From the time he left Utah in the mid 1990’s, he seldom fished. Back in Texas, Dad went through a…
but it’s not the wound that matters, it’s the soul, the soul that must be heard not the wound -Anne Michaels a last fish There was another creek on the other side of the mountain where I…
“And we marched on in the direction of the wilderness of Moab.” Deuteronomy 2:8 “We went into the land to which you sent us, and it does flow with milk and honey! Here is its fruit.” Numbers 13:27 homewater…
Note: In the essay that follows, I continue to write about my early days of learning to fly fish. Uncle Lloyd still lived in Dove Creek, and I was on the way west again with my family. We were moving…
Note: December is here. As I write this, I’m watching snow blow over the sund,* and on the hill behind the house the powder’s already a half meter or more deep. I’m listening to Frank Sinatra sing “Have Yourself a…
The novel is significant, therefore, not because it presents someone else’s fate to us, perhaps didactically, but because this stranger’s fate by virtue of the flame which consumes it yields us the warmth which we never draw from our own…
For Jim Stiles, of course This is not a paid endorsement. In fact, this is not a paid anything. And it may not be an endorsement. I am not certain when Jim Stiles and I became fellow-travelers, comrades in…
Lately I’ve been studying the barn and trees across the road from my house. I like watching trees move into winter, though this late in the year most of them are already there. No one uses the barn anymore. The…