A year ago

A year ago I received my proof copy of Tao of Thoreau. It’s still a very cool moment and memory. I continue to try to appreciate every step on this journey.

I wondered then how many books I would sell. I frankly wondered if I’d sell any after friends and family bought theirs. As I write this, I have sold 495 books. A big number beckons, and 500 seems like a real milestone.

Though this is not the big dream I began in childhood, as I have said here before, it is better. It is reality. Instead of fantasizing about future success, I am planning ways to promote the book and get it to as wide an audience as possible.

If you’re interested in finding out more about my book, this page will give you some background and links to purchase on Amazon.

Backyard Beauty

A long time ago, my wife and I were looking at a waterfall in a warm, exotic country. The falls were magnificent, yet she turned to me and asked “Is this any more beautiful than the waterfall we hike to at home?”

It’s still a good question. Yes, going to a foreign land and witnessing its grandeur adds to the power of the view. Yet I think it’s equally important to appreciate the beauty in our own communities, our own yards. Pay the money to go see all the beautiful sights of faraway places, but don’t neglect to appreciate the flowers that grow in our own small gardens.

The Fairy Door

I made myself small. I had to fit through the fairy door.  

The door creaked on invisible hinges. There was a skittering, the sound of tiny feet running … away. At first, I thought they must be hiding, but when I heard a door slam, I knew that they were gone.  

I stepped in boldly. There was a light that came from nowhere but lit everything like dawn or early dusk. I looked behind me: the door was still open, but it framed only darkness, though I’d stepped over the threshold from daylight.  

It was hard not to be apprehensive, but there was no obvious threat. I realized that I was in a storeroom. Tiny jars lined the walls. I got closer, almost expecting garish figures in formaldehyde, but this was not a horror movie scene. 

Continue reading