A Day in the Life, Part I"The Beginning"

For nearly two months now, I have had volumes to say. And yet: the moment a pen is in my hand, or my fingertips at a keyboard...

Everything fades away.

I become exhausted with words until there are none left to speak, and I crawl into bed hours ahead of schedule.

Only to wake up exhausted, again, the next morning.


But this summer, well... this summer hasn't been so bad. There have been ups, and downs, and for the most part I've surprised myself by venturing out into that brave new world, often in the company of friends.

[And sometimes alone.]


There have been concerts and plays; movies and festivals. I've traveled over 2,000 miles by car, only to fly back again.


I've played in the snow along the continental divide. I've camped in the storm of the century and realized that, in fact, I do not need any help taking down my massive, 7-person tent.

I can do it alone.


I've jumped up and down to REM; Modest Mouse; the National; the Young Dubliners; I've barbecued with an up-and-coming. I've sat alone next to the only empty seat in the house while the Swell Season took the city by storm.

I've babysat a small child (my one-year-old nephew) for the first time in my life.

I've changed diapers (also for the first time).

I've seen a beloved, but often overlooked, family pet suffer on her final day of life.

I've read four novels, witnessed countless sunsets, and — get this — started cooking actual meals at home.


I've knocked a minute off of my 3-mile jogs, and taken my oldest nephew for a swim.

And yet: for all of this. For every meaningful moment...

There's very little I can say.


But I will give you this: photographs taken from the past 2 months, the highlights of my adventures, posted (with slight exception) in the order in which they were taken until there's nothing left to see (this post, then, being the first of a series). I'll comment when I can but promise nothing...

Except, maybe, this:

This summer — quite literally — started with a storm: clouds ripe with rain, and dropping in the distance.


But once the storm clouds cleared, everything was beautiful again. But there was a reason I took pictures of so much.

Of the before



And the after


Because the thing we so seldom realize


The thing we waste our lives failing to understand


Is that it was beautiful all along.