Tarmac ribbons criss-crossing the landscape, dusty back roads twisting between the cool shadows of ancient pines, and less traveled pathways connecting present to past, all I wander, seeking, seeing, with my keyboard and camera capturing scenes and stories to share with you.

Now in its seventh year, this venue has become an important part of my life, a place where I can express my thoughts and feelings about the things I see and do, hoping the process brings me a bit closer to friends and family who enjoy sharing my sometimes chaotic and often nonlinear observations and ideas. A journal, I suppose, but one with which I find pleasure in thinking others are alongside me on my journey.

Comments, thoughts, or just a friendly chat, use the response box below or email me at patrickgroleau@gmail.com.

July 8, 2012



... august of 1958, for sure, since the slide mount is dated ... having arrived in anchorage sometime in early summer, perhaps a week or so before the congress passed the statehood act on june 30th, by august my father was obviously well into the process of exploring every road, path, and ancient native trail he could somehow manage to negotiate with our little car ... of course, this meant that even at the tender age of seven i'd already been assigned the responsibility of "holding the lug nuts" while he and my brother changed out a tire slashed open by a knife-like chunk of rocky road debris ... no real clue as to where this was taken, but i wouldn't be surprised to learn that it was somewhere on the kenai peninsula ... two facts i do remember:  first, something you may find difficult to believe, at this point in my life i had not yet learned to properly swim, and, second, as i very, very clearly recall, no matter where it was pa wanted to pose us to snap a picture, my brother always stood between me and the current or edge of the precipice ... here, he's relaxed because he was without fear, while i'm smiling because i know i'm safe ...