Retired professional photographer, journalist and freelance writer in Blue Rapids, a rural town located in northeast Kansas.
Restless, uneasy, wanting more than a caged interior existence, I went out as the sun westered. Shadows spread like spilled ink and the light warming to a golden luminance gilded the whitewashed monolith of the grain elevator with its sprightly sprig of wheat. Without thought or plan I drove the streets desirous … More A time, a place, a people
Later I thought of that unnamed canyon south of Albuquerque whose dark basaltic stones cresting the highest ridges were etched with signs and patterns, with weird faces and feathered serpents and, along the tallest promontory, dozens of finely-boned feet, their toes and soles a deep burnished umber contrasting starkly against the black … More House of unwritten stories
The big pale bird flew low to the stubbled field, its powerful wingbeats propelling it toward a sharp rise where the land fell away toward the distant Little Blue River. Something about its flight pattern seemed odd, simultaneously more buoyant and erratic, its color the epitome of a gray wintry dawn. The light was bad, … More Winter ghost
It wasn’t just cold on the main street of Barnes, it was antarctic in the old-fashioned sense of the word. An icy wind sluiced up from the south unopposed by structure or hill or tree, kicking up clouds of dust, whipping flags to froth and jackknifing down collars, turning skin to stone … More An imaginary war
Much has been written about the Occupy Wall Street movement—oceans of ink, in fact, though it’s questionable how many people actually read those millions of words to their bitter end, much less grasped the meanings behind it. My own experience was surprisingly detached. On the one hand I applaud any grassroots attempt … More Occupy Blue Rapids
One frosty morning, without planning aforethought or consultation of a map, I turned off Highway 9 onto County Line Road and headed north. Not that it was much of a road. For the first mile or so it was wide enough for one-and-a-quarter mid-sized cars to pass without … More The endless road
The last thing I expected to see was a horned toad but then I’ve come to accept these gifts without fanfare or overblown rumination on the mysteries of life. The temperature was in the low thirties and a cold breeze slicing from the north but the bluff faced the south and the … More View from the edge of now
When I left work Monday afternoon light was fading into a gray featureless murk that might indicate freezing drizzle, an early dusk or both. The thermometer on the bank read 28 degrees which didn’t take into account the breeze, but then I heard a few weeks ago that the whole concept of … More Thanks be
I can’t decide whether I want to be reincarnated as a secretive bird, a bra or Godzilla. All have their relative merits.
It’s true: the inmates are running the asylum. I’m almost at a loss for words over news of the upcoming Kansas sesquicentennial wrap-up scheduled to take place in Wichita in early December. According to a press release, the event is a two-day, statewide symposium “designed to foster engagement and energy, and to establish a direction … More Bright future
dispatchesfromkansas 