Thank you, friends of Cooper and John. Your notes and kindnesses meant a lot to me after Cooper’s passing on June 11. It lifted my spirits to be reminded that so many of you were Cooper fans, too. I have been short on words since his death. The trails are clear, but I still pause. …
I was down in the dumps for a while but then realized I was reading only about Trump, Custer and the newspaper business. My spirits are lifting now. I know there is no saving of the newspaper business as I knew it, but I remain hopeful about journalism and journalists. I foresee Trump following in …
Front coming in and tonight’s walk looked like an Ingmar Bergman film, even with the inartfully named Fendler bladderpods coloring the way, but I refuse to be gloomy. Coop and I got in a little exercise in and around our meditative rest stops. Cooper sniffs the air. I take pictures. At least we stretched our …
April morning, after the storm. Birds here.
Head kept getting lost in the clouds.
One big photo op.
Far be it from me to make light of climate change and global warming, but they were a convenient excuse for a work stoppage today at dreamranch. I am building a new viewing platform — aka picnic table –for Cooper and offer photographic evidence at left that progress is being made. So, there, you Cooper …
Kinda lonely — wind wearing me down — but always different ways to see. Coop still makes it home. And we’ve got better than cactus for supper.
Reporting on sunset. Our trail tonight. Later, I went to look at his moon but saw it upstaged when the biggest shooting star I’ve ever seen — technically a fireball, I guess — flashed in a short, brilliant arc in the northern sky. I wasn’t fast enough with my pocket camera, so all I can …
Here are the hands on my clock, clouds and light. Here is the sky I photographed last night and the sky I photographed this morning as I rose late from bed, remembering that I had forgotten to move the hands on my watch, reminding myself as I tried to catch wispy clouds, “Spring forward, fall …
dream ranch 