We do not often speak of the Wall, of leg cramps, hunger, rain, or hills in reverent tones. In each of us lives a desire to be challenged, to keep on, to stay in when the road gets hard.
I drove by an old wooden house backed into a rain wet piney wooded hillside. I noticed it had no roof. Just like another place from another time.
I woke up the other day to Frank Sinatra singing “Learning The Blues” on my iPod alarm. In the wrinkle between sleep and waking I remembered the day he died. I got up and wrote it down.