A short commentary on antique kill traps.

A short article about trapping and early experiances.

Struggle that never stops…

It’s all about the feet.

A poem which queries over whether all natural beauty is best left in nature, beyond being touched and possibly ruined by human selfishness and greed.

My most treasured memories of my Dad while I was growing up.

I could never learn speed reading, but one thing I could do was to live in my mind that which I read. I suppose in some way, all do that, but it made deep impressions upon my mind, upon my soul. I picked information out of tidbits of narratives of others. Later these nuggets were tested and became mine or were discarded. As a reader, as a writer, the question of “Where Have I Been?” brings to mind the local, the other states, other countries, continents and finally the universe. Time and space are of no consequence, nor a limitation. If an author can write it, I can in my mind live it as if I were there. That is where I have been.