July 22, 2011—
For me, the notion of bird watching was as impossible as marathon running.
Or playing golf.
But last spring I was standing in the Mississippi Sandhill Crane National Wildlife Refuge near Pascagoula, Miss. looking at birds. For a long time. I did not have binoculars or a pith helmet. I was not on a writing assignment. I was on vacation with my girl friend. She wandered off as she was known to do. I can still see the intensity of her blue eyes attached to the skies in the distance.
i found a veranda near a marsh surrounded by wet pine savanna and pine scrub. It was late morning and puffy clouds rolled across the horizon like boxcars. [...]
July 4, 2011-
The essence of music is deep and free. Like sprinkles of dust underneath blasted firecrackers and cherry bombs there is a distant salsa beat.
An old blue bicycle takes you to a group of men in Humboldt Park on the west side of Chicago. They are across the way from the 16-inch softball players with the sweeping uppercut swings and the pregnant woman with a light white smock snapping in a gentle breeze.
It sounds like the old bicycle needs oil.
The men are huddled under a tree that shades them from a bright blue sky. No barbecue, no beer; just their drums, congas and heart beats. No tip jars.
Just commitment, a promise to keep [...]
