Tuesday, November 27, 2007

hunting season...

...for this week and next. Rifle* season. I feel like I've been chased indoors from my backyard.



*I don't mind riding in the woods during bow season, being much more confident that a bow-hunter can distinguish between me and a deer than I am with the rifle hunters.

2 comments:

KingM said...

Is this a response to more gun play across your trail like that time at Timp?

goat said...

That experience is burned in my memory, and serves as a salient reminder each fall to keep an eye on the hunting season calendar.

I should tell the story, but I'm never satisfied with my story telling.

Have you read The River Why? At the very beginning you have DJD's first-person narrator telling the story of his uncle telling the story of his parents' meeting. A person telling a story of person telling a story of person telling a story. And that story is brilliant. Engaging. Convincing. Told with a consistent tone, a tone very much different than the tone of the first-person narrator telling the story and so it comes off not only as enchanting but that kind of believable that makes you wish more than anything in the world that you were there, by that fireside, listening to that story, because you've no doubt that it was real--that there was a time and place in the coordinates of the cosmos where that story was told and your life would somehow be better had your eardrums beat out the rhythm of the code of sounds, intonations, pauses, intensity that make up the grammar and vocabulary of that sweet story.

That's how I want to tell stories. But of course I can't. Because mediocrity, thy name is goat.