6:45 a.m. at the Asheville Airport preparing to board Delta 4271 to Atlanta, then on to Minneapolis, where we will pick up a rental car and drive to the Brush Ranch in Galesville, Wisconsin, crossing the mighty Mississippi River in the doing. We ought to get in by 3 p.m. Central, time enough for Buck to sight in his gun on their range.
This has been a Summer and Fall of no writing. So much to write about that I’ve choked on it and have barely gotten a word out. I suspect amateur journal writers all across the country have had a similar experience, while others, silent before, have suddenly found their voice, whether through writing, painting or a newfound gift for giving themselves to others.
Today is our last flight for 2001, so far as we know.