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.

August 6, 2012


... gusting winds, swirling about from all around, mixing the scent of the green green pines with that of corn in the fields shooting up to brush the clouds scurrying around above me in air fresh and clear and clean such that i cried for the joy we shared ...


... i'm so blessed, it appears, to live in a state which encourages me and my little machine's freedom to chase the breeze around the countryside, while at the same time is kindly enough it thinks to remind cows they must slow down ... it has something to do with their center of gravity on curves, i think, or, perhaps it's that they just don't get very good traction on the tarmac ...