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 sixth 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.

January 23, 2015

SOLSTICE PAST

... two nights ago, 5:35pm ...

... tonight, 5:41pm ...

... three weeks past the solstice, living almost upon the 45th parallel, it is essential to make note of these things ...

... over in roger's garage, my motorcycle, waiting for me ...

... soon ... that's my thought ... soon ...

R.I.P. SNOWBALL

... okay, so i don't know if his name was "snowball" ... of my sister, susie, i'm sure, and, of course, as he was equally our sibling, alvin-the-wonder-dog is never to be forgotten, but of the rabbit i'll have to go with snowball until my dear sister corrects me ...

... now, being that a few years ago i confessed to her, i can tell the story of snowball's tragic demise ... with the rabbit tucked away in the elaborate chicken-wire home pa had cleverly constructed for him, we went to bed secure in the knowledge snowball was safe from all of alaska's nasty woodland predators ... little did we know that during the night the temperature was to drop even further than -40°f ... checking in on the rabbit as part of our morning chores, michael and i discovered that during then night he had died ... whether the animal expired from the cold, or first died from some other cause and then froze, either way he was frozen solid into a chunk of furry ice ... i was aghast, and, while i cannot remember the exact words, i said something to the effect, "mike ... susie's heart will be broken ... how do we tell her" ... my brother screwed up his face even more than his normal visage, a sign i recognized as an indication he was using all of his brain cells at once ... "quick ... go over to the firepit and get me a skinny piece of wood" ... returning with a length of kindling, i handed it to him ... he then proceeded to use the wood as a lever with which to rip an opening in the chicken-wire side of the cage ... "there, now hide this piece of wood under the pile" ... when i got back he had snowball in hand ... i noticed that he'd closed and latched the cage door ... "okay, after we get rid of him our story is that during the night he must've decided he wanted to join his relatives in the woods, got it" ... he made me repeat the story several times, then we went inside to bring the news of snowball's escape to my sister ...

... later, outside, huddled around the cage, i remember when the thought came to her, "but ... but, what if some animal broke in and took snowball" ... mike's response was slow, measured, as if a thought that had just come to him, "oh, no ... i don't think so ... see how the wire is bent outwards ... there's no way that could happen unless snowball did it himself" ...

... susie was sad, of course, but not heartbroken ...

... and, reading this even after all these years, she will most likely again be saddened ... that's susie, my little sister ...

... finally, sworn forever to secrecy, never can i say what happened to the corpse ...

REDIT DIES

... i went for a little drive, suffering using my car instead of my motorcycle, but reminding myself how lucky i am to have one of each ... i made a visit with c.j. ... he'd taken a picture out the window of his work area, "have you ever seen anything like that ... i've never seen a blue cloud like that before" ... i was so happy, that he'd seen, thought to record, and considered it important to share ... soon, i hope, he'll be a part of our random wanderabouting ... a long, long time ago, seemingly another universe sometimes easier to believe a product of our imaginations rather than accept as a reality integral to all we've become, c.j. and i were trusted to work on most seriously secret "special things" (link for those who haven't yet made a visit) ... here's c.j. leaving the underground lair where for a time he suffered a rather troglodyte existence ...

... after leaving mount vernon i wandered down towards augusta, stopping at the taylor pond outlet to enjoy the evening light ...

... at my feet, the mighty glaciated himalayas as from an orbiting space station ...

... i wonder, does the northernmost point of antarctica look like this ...

... hard to believe, but only a few days of below freezing temperature and this bubbling foam will be as solid as the overhanging ice ledge ...

... reflecting the sunlight, perhaps the most serendipitous of molecular chemistry's truths, that water is most dense at 39.2°f, while, unlike most molecules, it becomes 2/100ths less dense when it freezes ... if you think that to be an insignificant amount, remind yourself were it not the case most likely there would be no life on this planet ...

... but, of course, the water molecule does behave so, and, it seems, there are always some willing to quite joyously celebrate the fact ...

Beauty, like ice, our footing does betray;
Who can tread sure on the smooth, slippery way:
Pleased with the surface, we glide swiftly on,
And see the dangers that we cannot shun.
JOHN DRYDEN