junction

caravan-ing three hours outside of austin to the spiller ranch, somewhere between junction, tx, and menard. you can watch the landscape change along the way, the profuse wildflowers and gently rolling hills transforming into sparser clumps of wildflowers, rocky soil, limestone cliffs. passing through the hill country to the edge of it, the part just before you get to mountainous west teas, vast expanses, wild.

---

two weeks ago our friend wright got a call that his dad had passed away. unexpected (he was only in his early 50's), rough, too much. sandwiched between the boston marathon bombings and the explosion in west. but that: that was that week.

so today, everyone is gathered, all 19 of us: the friends from austin, the family from the ranch, mom and sister from dallas, the crew from the homeland of detroit, and the brother from northern california. so we drive 4 cars for 3 hours to a place that is breathtaking, peaceful, calm. it's the kind of place that's decidedly calm but i'm only here for the day and i need something longer than that.

there's a horse and a bull and some cows further on, and a lot of land to look at. we drive from the ranch house down to the patch, where the family is all buried, and there is a history and a tradition that makes the hair stand up on the back of my neck. the windchimes on the tree and wright in his suit and tie. breaking bread, eric's badly tied tie and the belt that's missed 3 or 4 loops. the gnats everywhere, too, and this little fenced in piece of land with the family that are no longer here. there have been big, fat raindrops, on and off, all day as we traveled.

---

i think there's a value to being deeply in touch with the vulnerable part of yourself, i'm an expresser, expressing, etc. you are not but that minute or two of you talking there at the end - when you let it out it's always so beautiful. i know you don't think words are your strong suit and maybe not but i'm not sure i agree, because in that moment i just wanted to squeeze your hand and tell you how much i loved you.

---

two weeks left. can't come soon enough.

---

i could've cropped out that cell phone but i just loved something about it; anachronistic.