
Yes, it’s true. I tried to hide it but secrets are like glaciers upon the landscape of the soul; they freeze over for a time, then pull back to reveal their grinding destruction.
My father was the Al Gore of Wyoming from 1970-2005. He called himself a conversationalist but that was a cover; the man was greener than a cesspool. To be the movement before "The Movement" takes serious grit. He was left with his own meager resources - an office cubical with the State of Wyoming and his two children. So it is that my childhood began.
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Sometimes, I could swear, the earth speaks.
I was at my daughter’s swim meet timing with another mom when her 9-year-old daughter joined us. We had timed a few events when the girl started shrieking; there was a bee on the diving block before us. It landed on the wet cement…buzz…rest…buzz…rest. The daughter grew increasingly upset.
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The first of the winter storms hit Northern California today. The sky opened up and torrents of water poured out of the sky, like a waterfall in the desert. After a long, dry summer, the ground is drinking it in, but not fast enough. The earth is so starved for moisture, it’s as if it’s afraid to drink too fast and wind up drunk. Flooding is inevitable.