
take the mountain path
and reacquaint yourself with
witches and angels
–photo by me

take the mountain path
and reacquaint yourself with
witches and angels
–photo by me

There’s a mathematical formula scientists use called ‘the drunkard’s walk’ to determine how long a photon, emitted in the center of the sun, would take to make the journey to the outer surface. The random turns it makes on its way out are analogous to the random turns a drunkard makes while trying to get home from the bar.
In both cases, the distance traversed from the start is the typical step size times the square root of the number of steps taken. Factor in the length of time a typical step takes, and you have your answer.
For the photon, this works out to be thousands or possibly hundreds of thousands of years “bouncing around” in the sun before being spit out into space and ending up smacking into your eye at 6 trillion miles an hour about 8 minutes later. For the drunkard, it’s a bit messier of a problem with far more variables, but you get the idea.
I only wish I’d known about this back when I was that drunk staggering home. I could’ve explained to my poor wife that I was out there contributing to science for the betterment of all mankind — at which point her fist would’ve smacked into my eye at 6 trillion miles an hour, I’m sure.
–Photo by me

from under my desk
the world’s a mess
the russians are coming
the president’s dead
a classmate was caught
with a knife in her purse–
i don’t know how things
could get any worse
–photo by me

the young bearded dragon named mel
thinks his beard makes him macho as hell,
but it seems a bit weird
to think that of a beard
when your lady friend has one as well
–photo by me

the church of the woods
provides its parishioners
with pews of felled pines
–photo by me

bring me an icehouse
a big pick-up truck
an auger and minnows
and plenty of luck
bring me a license
and fishing gear, too
gasoline, propane
and something to do
a six-pack of beer
and food, if you wish–
bring these to me
and i’ll bring you a fish
–photo by me

while the bald eagle
can still have a bad hair day–
the bald man cannot
–photo by me

Snow, snow, go away
Come again on Christmas Day
It looks as though I must delay
My plans to ride my bike today.
Snow, snow, disappear
Come again late in the year
For though I’m trying to persevere
I’ve really had it up to here.
–Photo by me

i came out here to be alone
and walk the trail awhile–
instead, a pack of wild deer
threatens to … make me smile
–photo by me

i drive up to my favorite spot
for some serious stargazing,
and as my eyes adjust to the
inky blackness of the night,
i find myself suddenly on
the edge of a rocky crag,
hanging precariously over
a yawning, endless void–
the abyss of nothingness.
i want to cling to the world
for if i should lose my grip,
i might tumble into it;
in time, i know i will.
–photo by me