Tags » On The Writing Life


Stone circles. Dozens, possibly more than a hundred.

Most of them consist of a single course of unworked rocks in a ring five or six feet across, usually on a high place.   157 more words

Walking All Day On Stone

¡Buen Provecho!

Early in the day we saw a bright, limber young bullsnake, the diameter of a thick pencil, its body many tiny wiggles instead of the sober curves of an adult. 101 more words

Walking All Day On Stone

Black Glass

On the Malpais, the McCarty’s lava flow, only three thousand years old. The surface looks fresh as yesterday, like Kilauea’s: so crevassed and glassy that Jan said, “On the Malpais, you don’t bruise.” We kept a sharp lookout for rattlesnakes—there’s sure to be a black morph. 20 more words

Walking All Day On Stone

Where We Walk

Desert pavement on Penistaja Mesa. Pebbles eroded 65 million years ago from long-lost ranges, tumbled in quick creeks and dropped at the feet of trees in green estuaries. 18 more words

Walking All Day On Stone

Walked in Beauty

In a little clearing lay the perfectly articulated skeleton of a coyote, probably winter-killed. The skull with its gleaming teeth had been picked white and clean, but a bit of hide and sand-colored fur still clung to the delicate bones of one paw.

Walking All Day On Stone