“May your trails be crooked, winding, lonesome, dangerous, leading to the most amazing view.” Preface to Desert Solitaire by Edward Abbey [McGraw-Hill, 1968].
As you read this, I’m with some human (and canine) friends of like mind, having temporarily traded the ways and woes of ‘civilization’ for the immediacy of avoiding boat-keeper ‘holes’ and logjam ‘strainers’ — I hope we’ve all found the best lines through rapids and found campsites with ease despite the (predicted) high flows, and I wish the same for you, wherever you may be.
Up first, I’ve rambled many trails, rivers and byways with close friends of the human and canine persuasion — here is an homage featuring my current canine companion (who is likely lounging behind me on our raft right about now, eyeing the shore or dreaming of rivers and trails she has known, and then a 3-part look at some other dreamers, rakes and ramblers of North America’s canyons, mountains and deserts.
“To be honest, I am always birding on some level, but a bit of real birding, getting out in the open air to focus on the comings and goings of the local birds, has been an important part of my day for as long as I can remember…” — Preface to the second edition of Sibley Birds West, by David Alan Sibley [Knopf/Borzoi Books, 2016]
I’ll end this week with a 3-part homage to avian migration, with particular focus on some water-seeking birds that BDog and I wandered amongst as the spring of 2023 eased northward…
Up next week, some images that I hope will convey a bit of the joy and beauty this planet offers to all who will take time to see it, with another edition of Road Trip Pics. Meanwhile, feel free to comment and share these posts with friends and acquaintances, and thanks for whatever you do to make this a better day — B.
For a long, fascinating read from Jason Anthony, here’s a link to his latest edition of Field Guide to the Anthropocene: