Category: Holding onto the Past
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The No-Name Motel
[The motel with no name] Most of the time I can erect a fence to contain the images and imaginations from escaping my brain. Sometimes a little white picket fence with pink daisies in purple pots are enough to hold back the most innocent and decent imagery that my mind can create. Then, there are…
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A Sad Good-bye
[“Old Paint”. Now a part of history…ready for its final ride] The white Casier truck backed down our driveway. It was 10:30 on a muggy morning. Before ten minutes had passed, we had brand new chairs in our living room. The old L. L. Bean pair of overstuffed sofa-like seats were showing signs of aging.…
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Staring Down at 72
[A post card image from Inkognito.] As I write this post the weather here at Rainbow Lake is unsettled. Windy with thunder in the distance. I fell asleep in the screened-in porch last night listening to heavy rains falling. I’m staring at a calendar (The kitchen wall calendar…this year: Japanese prints). I see that I…
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My Friend Tim
[Left to right: Jo, Anna, Tim at the White Lion Inn on our last night in Dorset] It was August of 1984. I was about to begin a year in Dorset, England, when I first met Tim Ovenden. He was destined to be my house-mate in Wimborne Minster (actually a burb of Wimborne, Colehill). He…
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The Statue
This post is not about anything that happened on our most recent trip. This goes back to a time, over a year ago when we were having dinner at an outdoor restaurant In Brussels. At the end of the final course, I excused myself to go to the loo. On the way to the back…
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In The Land of Pooh, The Badger, King Arthur and Beyond: The Excursionist XIII Finale
magic (n) A mysterious quality of enchantment. England is a land of mystery, magic and myth. It is a land of legends of kings and villains of all sorts. Consider this quote: As one wakened suddenly from a beautiful dream, who struggles to recall it, and can recapture nothing but a dim sense of…
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The Glastonbury Tor Blog: The Excursionist XII
[The Tor at the start of our climb. St. Michael’s Tower crowns the hill] Glastonbury is an ancient town nestled on a broad plain near the Mendip Hills in the county of Somerset. It comes with a reputation, like that guy that sat in the last seat of your school bus. You can shop for…
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Words From A Footpath: The Excursionist X
[Older footpath signs] It must be my age. It could be my imagination. It certainly is something I don’t fully understand. But, the truth is I think that the English Public Footpaths sometimes call my name. There is a legend among the Northwest Indigenous People that when you hear an owl call your name…you will…
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The Holiday Card
[What follows is pure fiction. It is a short story that I hope you will enjoy. It’s not funny, but it’s what I wanted to write. Please don’t read anything into this post.] It was during a brief April thaw, when a chance breeze blew the snow and a few minutes of sunlight melted the…
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