summer of becoming

These fallow days of snowless winter are good for both remembering and dreaming (my trip to Algonquin last week, of course, helping to inspire them both), and so I have dug out my journal from last summer and fall, realizing I’d never done a thing with them here. For me, the brief notes that I was able to make bring the fullness of the sights and the sounds and the feelings so clearly. For you, perhaps not, but I will record them here nonetheless, as much for my own weary eyes as anything.

I intend to post date the posts to the times they occurred, and link them here.

I begin with a letter I wrote home somewhere in the middle of that remarkable time.

Summer of Becoming One

me and the boys

Two women, one canoe


Hay Lake Morning- revisited


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