Having looked at this photo for most of the winter, I’ve decided that what the world most needs is just this: leaping in, stepping out in the morning by 6:15, shucking our shoes, our fears, our inhibitions, and free-falling 30′ down to where trout live and hard-to-see snails. And floating on the surface water just above our heads a few yellow leaves.
Photo: Cory Arnold
Quetzal rolled out the year’s first snowman this week, and here he is, bright-eyed and hopeful. I think he’s hopeful, although it could be he’s sad or maybe curious. You’ll notice he seems to be looking at something, something above him. Continue reading
About four years ago, my daughter, Quetzal, asked me if I would build her a swing. The old kind, she said, a tire swing. So I found a tire, a length of rope, a few clamps, and one afternoon hung a swing from a tree just outside our kitchen door. When I finished, I called her over, and she climbed onto the tire and tried to start it going. But she couldn’t move it. So I tried. Like this, I said, pushing and pulling on the rope. But already I knew it would never work. The tire was too heavy. And that’s when I realized I had made a swing for both of us–for Quetzal to ride, for me to push. Continue reading