Individual short story exercise.  Peering through the sliding, wobbling sheets of spring creek current he could just make out the torpedo shaped fish ...

It was like tea bleeding in hot water. A blend of fragrances that rolled uphill in a slow, thermal simmer. The peppermint-butter aroma of bitter brush...

Out on the open highway his journey found its tempo, its rhythm, its pulse. Every day on a bike has its own feel, and today a natural feeling sense of...

A bumblebee bounced around.  Miles below him the line of dust continued crossing the valley, sending its flags into the air like smoke signals of forg...

With a quarter turn of his right wrist the motor churned out a flurry of crisp-sounding notes that broke skyward like mallards from the angled titaniu...

"As he woke his back stiffened. He tilted his head slightly and with a weathered hand pushed the woven-palm cast shadow upward- pouring the freshness ...

Daddy daycare has really put  a squeeze on my time to write, and thus what I write has really been squeezed. So I'm trying to see if I can continue to...

As my kiddo and I gazed at the slab of largemouth bass flexing along the handle of my net, he asked “Dad, is that fish bigger than me?” I could swear ...

Ch 9 Magnetic Fog resumes my 2014 archery elk hunting season with the addition of my friend Ian and his traditional bow. “They’ll be in FULL ParTay mo...

A whole new year and season. An entirely new location. Mature bulls right out of the gate. Ch 8 resumes my elk trek into the backcountry of Idaho in s...