Tuesday, August 05, 2008
FROM MORNING DRIVE JOURNAL
AUGUST 6, 2002
We've got blue sky. A paint of sun. Green grass, brown grass. The world rolls away in all its loveliness.
On Thursday early we'll leave for several days of canoeing in the Boundary Waters. We'll spend Thursday night in Thunder Bay, then enter from the Canadian side. I've not done a canoe trip before. It will be rough camping. We'll eat the fish we catch. It should be quite an enjoyable expedition. I'll be a little disappointed if we aren't "tested" to some degree. It will be an entirely different place from any place I've been.
There are clouds off to the east, over Lake Michigan. We shall find other geographic factors affecting the weather as we go into the Boundary Waters - different than what I'm used to here, something new to me.
I take joy in this single moment of morning - parking lot at work, two months more coming here and then everything changes forever to something else - not better, ultimately; not worse. Just different. Of a type that will, I hope, let me do what I'm put here to do. I'm trusting that what I'm put here to do will reveal itself.
AUGUST 6, 2002
We've got blue sky. A paint of sun. Green grass, brown grass. The world rolls away in all its loveliness.
On Thursday early we'll leave for several days of canoeing in the Boundary Waters. We'll spend Thursday night in Thunder Bay, then enter from the Canadian side. I've not done a canoe trip before. It will be rough camping. We'll eat the fish we catch. It should be quite an enjoyable expedition. I'll be a little disappointed if we aren't "tested" to some degree. It will be an entirely different place from any place I've been.
There are clouds off to the east, over Lake Michigan. We shall find other geographic factors affecting the weather as we go into the Boundary Waters - different than what I'm used to here, something new to me.
I take joy in this single moment of morning - parking lot at work, two months more coming here and then everything changes forever to something else - not better, ultimately; not worse. Just different. Of a type that will, I hope, let me do what I'm put here to do. I'm trusting that what I'm put here to do will reveal itself.
