A story of broken hearts and broken honor on a campground in Mexico on the Sea of Cortez.Continue reading
While roaming New Brunswick, Canada, I happened upon an old church in the village of Riverside-Albert that was converted into an unusual and hip market of sorts. It had groceries, a cafe serving coffee, pastries, and sandwiches along with art and crafts for sale in different areas. It had an open, airy aura with a bright and cheery ambience. I loved it and ended up hanging out there several times while camped nearby.
As I understand, today the place is no longer open because the proprietor was unable to make it work financially, which was quite unfortunate as it was such a cool place — especially more-so since I had a very unusual experience there I’ll never forget which I’ll share:Continue reading
View of the northernmost point of Nova Scotia in Canada called Meat Cove. The tiny white dot in the middle left of the first photo on the cliff’s edge is my camper. This is the view from the same camper where you can watch the fishing boats as they come and go. I also… Continue reading
On this very cold day of our New Year, I ventured outside and promptly ran back indoors with visions of a snowy armageddon in Florida (yes I readily admit I’m a cold weather wimp).
Wrapped in the warmth of a heater and hot coffee, I took the opportunity to reflect back over the past year or so. It seems a recurring theme has been about letting go and releasing into a new life.
In order to realize a long time dream of wandering our land in a tiny camper, I let go of a dearly loved cabin on a river.Continue reading
After long days and nights in the wild, I would come to town to stock up on food, etc. (and as always, that important visit to the local coffee shop/bookstore, which is nearly as blissful as being in the woods).
Since living the nomadic life, I’ve often noticed something different whenever I trekked back into civilization: People would look my way warily and give wider berth than usual. But it wasn’t just that -— it was the feeling of at once being invisible and avoided at the same time. As if I was not wanted in their reality.Continue reading
It was one of those times I wasn’t feeling too well so I took it easy by camping around a week on Prado Reservoir near Corona, California. There was a good sized lake home to thousands of birds of all kinds. In the mornings and evenings I’d take long, slow walks around the shore as a healing meditation of sorts. During one of those walks I saw this sunset beauty, a Great Blue Heron, as it alighted from a tree. It soared with such grace and elegance I felt my soul lift with it, bringing deep feelings of gratitude and bliss. When you witness the beloved, you become the beloved.
I felt I had stepped back into time seeing vast, rolling hills and prairies. My heart soared as I imagined millions of buffalo, horses, stags, and such roaming these plains only a hundred years or so ago. Just across the river in the photo is where Sitting Bull and Sacajawea (of Lewis and Clark fame)… Continue reading
In the above photo, I was driving on a mountain pass through northern Idaho on the way to Oregon and ended up pulling over on a switchback to stare up at the peak in reverence for a good while…
What I saw was the long hand of winter finally reaching down to swaddle the trees in her coldness. The trees awaited that gentle embrace because it meant they could at long last rest into deep slumber and it would be the first step towards that time of renewal ahead in spring.
Bit by bit, tree by tree she consumed all until there was nothing left but vast whiteness and coldness. That was my first glimpse of winter that day and it was one of the most beautiful embraces I’d ever witnessed.
I have fond memories of the area, but what I remember most was a middle aged homeless woman camped near me in her small car. Over the next few mornings, I’d bring hot coffee and bagels over and we’d chat. First about books, the area, camping life, etc. Over time her story unfolded bit by… Continue reading