Seeking and Finding Along the Big Yellow
Three Lonely Bells Toll
SOMEWHERE IN THE LOWER BIG BEND: Through the decades of my wanderings, I have become somewhat known for being able to find two things; water and graves. In that I suppose there is a binding connection as the two represent the opposite bookends in this…
I’ll Never See It All
SOMEWHERE IN THE LOWER BIG BEND: Stink Spring has been dry for several decades, nothing more now than a brush infested run with some decaying horse troughs amid rusting sections of water pipe. At one time the spring was important enough to be fenced…
Christmas Memories of Lajitas Trading Post
The Past is Future
23 October 1983 In quiet solitude amid the pine trees of North Carolina a lone sentinel stands in frozen repose, a lasting testament to a worst case scenario born from the best of intentions. On one side of the bronzed statue are a few…
Looking Between the Lines
SOMEWHERE IN THE LOWER BIG BEND: It was a crisp December morning when this photograph was taken, with the promise of a nigh perfect day for a long prowl through the Mule Ears area. Directly ahead was the large, golden-leafed cottonwood marking Trap Spring, though…
Almost Another Planet
SOMEWHERE IN THE LOWER BIG BEND: It was a crisp December morning when this photograph was taken, with the promise of a nigh perfect day for a long prowl through the Mule Ears area. Directly ahead was the large, golden-leafed cottonwood marking Trap Spring, though…
The Struggle to Keep Living
SOMEWHERE IN THE LOWER BIG BEND: There is not a single square mile in this country that does not present a challenge of some sort, and often enough more than one. From the jungle-like brush thickets found in the mouths of large arroyos along the…
Where the Old Feet Trod
SOMEWHERE IN THE LOWER BIG BEND: When many people first come to this country, they tend to believe it is a young land mostly untouched and undiscovered by man. Something inherent to the desert and these mountains excite the imagination, causing one to feel as…
A Lonely Grave Where Nothing Lives Forever
SOMEWHERE IN THE LOWER BIG BEND: “On a hill far away, Stood an old rugged cross”… A graveyard is a lonely place, and an abandoned one makes for the loneliest of all. For some reason people congregated at a certain spot, dreamed dreams, lived life…