Currently
I'm thirty today. My last day at work is Friday, I'm leaving Portland in twenty-one days, our furniture and other possessions are steadily disappearing from our apartment. Scheduling final meetings with friends near and far. Sitting on the porch I can see the North Fork of the Shenandoah. The water just keeps coming and coming and I don't know how. It doesn't look like that much water, but if you consider how long a time it keeps up that steady rate, and how steady that rate really is, even considering the rises and falls in the level; it's really something. A great deal of water goes through that channel. And then conversely: how although the river is proverbially never the same, continually self-altering, it stabilizes and anchors the life and landscape around it.
Train trip
By the time this posts, I should be out of Portland, in transit limbo. I’ll be traveling to Virginia to visit my family. We’re going in style, on Amtrak, taking the Empire Builder to Chicago and riding in a room. So I won’t be around for the next few days to approve comments or answer emails, and I’m not sure how often I’ll be on the computer while I’m back East. Otherwise, I feel a
