This time of year, when the Midwest winters never seem to end, and the days are long and gray. When the sun is sparse, if it exists between chilly winds and endless dreariness, I often plan a little desert

I sit on the beach looking out across endless ocean falling into the sky. Nothing out there. Nothing in either direction up and down the coat. Foam and waves washing up dead fish for the crabs to feast

“After the Wake” Chapter 1 Pieces of myself drifted away, floating, like autumn leaves off dead trees. Barren, fallen from black branches, and scattered across the ground. Pieces left behind. A bit at

I can not take any of the credit for this amazing ice engineering. Once a year, a one night only event, on the Isle of Lakes in Minneapolis, the Luminary Loppet puts on a candle lit ice fest. Months of

It’s right about this time of year, when the shortest month starts to feel like the longest- and I’m ready to say goodbye to the cold, and the ice, and the shoveling, and the driving in blizzards. Sadly,

Night descended. Full moon glowing illuminated a blue landscape. Frogs chirped in the shadows of shallow ditches. “I think I need to sleep.” Zombies walk faster. “Yeah, me too.” We slumped back to back

Time is different in the forest. Slow petals falling record seconds. Bird calls signal the hour. We walked through quiet day with nothing but homeward on our mind. Twice lucky to have survived near disastrous

Day arrived. Loud repetitive noice of wheels screaming through concrete. Cars drove over head. My back creaked and popped as I shifted. Stiff from a motionless night sleeping on stones. Gray morning. Jason

After dripping through the small spaces between time, space, and the surface of the picnic table, I picked the melted pieces of myself back into the plastic shell of a body. I watched shallow dark pools

We made our way through the forest at dawn under branches and through brush until reaching a road. The sun burning on the horizon. A full night of not sleeping. Beyond the woods opened to a large verdant

The plan was simple: get dropped off in the middle of nowhere. Make it back home. Leave notes so no none would worry when we weren't back for a few days. Don’t get the cops involved. Neither of us had

Like a dream. Her face spoke to me. I coughed putting out the cigarette. “You're not seriously going to do this?” She crossed her arms. This story contains adult language “It'll be alright. We'll be alright.”

A snap in the woods. Morning creeping in through thin branches warms the woods in blue orange glow and illuminates the walls of my tent. Another snap in the woods. Sitting up, my breath calm, white transparent

If I could stop myself from saying, “only if I had this when I was growing up…” then I wouldn’t feel so damn old. But, for all seriousness I had to wake up 6:30am on a Saturday if I wanted to watch my

Like a boat adrift at sea, lingering on an endless horizon, waves washing, disappearing memory, where does the sky meet the water? the two surfaces becoming one, And swallowed into yesterday. Purpose,

To conclude the adventure… Offering a wealth of views and scenic opportunities, Duluth holds a veneer of splendor giving way to an edge of almost danger. In the sense of nature being the dangerous element

Reaching the hilled crest of Duluth, one detour in, and a wrong turn placed us on top a slick snow coated thirty degree pitched hill. With some hesitation @Kommienezuspadt moved us forward towards our

Snow drifts over cars blurring the ability to move in any direction. Wind slices, the cut of a sword across daylight, bare skin, frozen smiles, Minnesota winter welcomes the unwelcomed and embraces them

A silence found in having no desire, Sitting alone by the open fire. A quiet discovery in being nowhere, while looking inside in a reflective stare. The mind stops fleeing trying to be elsewhere. Simple

Third day in the woods. How does one get to the core of being? What is the essence or center of self? “They” say through meditation, but isn’t that like the absent of thought- no-mind, un-thought, quiet