I’m back from the ranch in Texas, although not happily. I’m learning, slowly, that I’m happier alone, far away from the various social and technological stimuli I stupidly seek in cities, happier when constantly reminded by nature of geologic, centurial, and seasonal time. Those scales, which so dwarf the emotional cycles of my scattered psyche, are calming, reassuring: moods are small things.
But I’m back. Some things happened, most of which are in the photoset here; a few are below:
Bayou chased, and then was chased by, wild pigs:
Five developed a blissful obsession with armadillos which my dad compared to “The Short Happy Life of Francis Macomber”:
Bayou came tubing, and we got seriously lost for many hours:
Record-setting fish were caught:
In virtually every photo in the set, my lower lip protrudes due to the presence of Kodiak. I apologize to the many who find this reprehensible. Also, note that this isn’t a particularly great set of photos; better shots are here.
