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Dear Blue Ridge

Your springs have a mind of their own, yet they stay to their determined courses, following plans drawn up by gravity, grooves deepened by time.

The Casita Crawl

Instead of making the trek up the mountain, Alfonso and I, along with our crew of fellow naturalists, researchers, and organic farmers, decided to bring the night life to us.


Cemetery-learned drivers make for slow, steady drivers, who may or may not still bear the mental turmoil of having learned to drive surrounded by dead bodies. 

River Fever

I smell the sweet river dew and hear the rush of water over rock, and I’m launched back in time to my hunter-gatherer roots.

Cohabitating My Way to Hell

My friend had just described a hypothetical scenario of someone living in direct opposition to the laws of the church, and there I was, right beside him, living that life, deserving of reprimand.

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