Categories

Good:

Early summer evenings in Homer, Alaska buzzing with insect life, surrounded by eastern cottonwoods shimmering in the wind and swaying spruce. The sun sets reluctantly like a rambunctious child unable to deny its own fatigue. As it descends, the reflection from the (unseen) waters of the bay inch a bright line of salmon-colored frontier up the nearly fictional mountains. Unlike every other kind of light in summertime Alaska, this does not last long.

Joni Mitchell's Blue; Motorhead's Bastards; The New Pornographers ' Together.

Making connections with permaculturalists, bicycle commuters, and urban gardeners in Anchorage.

Difficult:

Explaining less-than-strict vegetarianism and pragmatic Christianity.

The constant, indecisive rain outside the office right now. Not really a storm. Not a drizzle. Just an obstacle.

Magic:

Sea-glass.

Advantageous:

Access to the gym in the basement of my office building.

Daunting:

Registering voters at the upcoming Business of Clean Energy Fair.

In progress:

The locating and purchasing of affordable hiking boots.

Depressing:

The feeling that, most places you go, the main activity is spending money.

Simple:

Red beans, rice, and pan-fried okra.

Ever-present:

The feeling that I don't know why I'm in Alaska yet.

Reassuring:

The feeling that I will eventually.

Helping out:

Annie Dillard, Hart Crane, and the overlooks in Earthquake Park.

Name of my next 20-something indie love story / John Krasinski vehicle:

Earthquake Park.