Craig Wisner

River. (Overnight, 4/26/14)

Simple.  Quiet.  I appreciate the character of trips with my children.  We talk, we leave each other alone.  I watch.  These moments without clocks and worldly nonsense offer time to pause and look at who they have become, who they are becoming.  The beauty of family, those whom we can be quiet with- because we know there is time.  Gary Snyder always comes to mind here.  I’ve probably already posted this poem somewhere, but it begs repeating, often.



The rising hills, the slopes,
of statistics
lie before us.
the steep climb
of everything, going up,
up, as we all
go down.

In the next century
or the one beyond that,
they say,
are valleys, pastures,
we can meet there in peace
if we make it.

To climb these coming crests
one word to you, to
you and your children:

stay together
learn the flowers
go light


A sense of melancholy always grips me after returning from trips with family; a sense that what I have just been partaking in was the real world, that these are the only people I need, that it is the way things were meant to be.

So we just have to keep on going.








He wanted to try Chef Boyardee canned ravioli for his first time and I forgot the can opener. Knives and rocks work. Thankfully, he hated the ravioli. I warned him.



Lovecraft’s “The Call of Cthulu”. I’m happy to have raised a bookworm.


He still hasn’t beaten me, but this one was close. Somehow down a rook, knight, and two pawns, I managed to force a draw to save my skin.




One response

  1. Awesome report as per usual my friend…

    May 16, 2014 at 11:36 am

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