Falling home.

#041

Good morning from our West Virginia ridge. Fall is in full swing and I think it’s one of the more colorful ones we’ve had in years. Throughout these day, the shifting light offers different perspectives and draws my attention to parts of our woods I thought I knew, but now see differently. I appreciate the perspectives seasons bring.

This week, I met a horse named Jake Fiddy, worked on an assignment for the Dutch paper NRC and West Virginia Public Broadcasting (more soon), cleaned my chimney, moved some firewood, saw the Beaver Moon, and spend as much time outside as possible.

Here’s some of what I saw:

I’ve also been trying to write a little more. More accurately, I’ve been trying to write things down more. I usually use my Field Notes notebook (whichever is closest), but I've been jotting notes on the back of VA letters, printed emails (because why wouldn’t you print emails?), or whatever I find nearby.

I wish I could share that these writings, OK notes, are the beginning of an incredible new project, but they’re mostly reminders, names, sketches, and the occasional idea. But, maybe that’s how some writers write or researchers research. With pictures, sometimes I don’t know where the picture belongs and it isn’t until I’ve made a dozen other pictures I don’t have a home for that something begins to take shape.

It’s all a mystery, I know that much. (Which reminds me how much I love this Iris DeMent song.)

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I don’t use a tripod very often, but I made use of it to make this video of me in Logan, West Virginia earlier this week.

And here’s the photo.

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As always, thanks for reading, liking, commenting on, and sharing this newsletter. While it’s free to subscribe, know that I appreciate your support and investment in my time and practice.

This week’s title is a nod to Jim Wayne Miller’s Brier Sermon. If you’ve never read it, I encourage you to do so. If you haven’t read it in a while, here’s your reminder to read it again. You’ll fall home.

Take care of each other.

- Roger