The canyon was flooded so I found myself leaning against the tailgate of the truck, pulling on my waders, setting up my fly rod after another drive through the mountains to fish wider waters in open country. Out across the field sweeping away from the lake there knelt an old antelope, folding his legs under himself to […]
He leaves the house before dawn to stand out under the moon and that single morning star, listening to everything; a torrent within, outside, the distant northbound train, the dogs in the hills serenading the end of night, the interstate humming. An owl speaks of the first world in the far cottonwood. The man is […]
Field Notes on Faith and the First World
Exploring depths previously unsounded in oneself, as best one may.
Musings on poetry, language, perception, numbers, food, and anything else that slips through the cracks.
Supporting ways of being that are life-giving and sustainable for people, communities and the planet.
Believes everyone has a story to tell.
James Scott Smith 