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Thousands of them. Thousands upon thousands over these last four years. In each of my slow-walk days, I pass ten, maybe thirty, occasionally hundreds. And even now, even after seeing so many of them they tug at the corners of my eyes, sting me with tiny jolts of sadness, lonlieness, regret, guilt even. Crosses. The roads of South . . . → Read More: A glimpse of road update: 11.16.06 Sitting here in quito right now, getting stuff together for a visa to enter colombia. I have been staying with an awesome person, kristin anson. She’s letting me crash at her house, shows me around town, and even let me come to her high school to give a presentation to some classes about my trip. needless to say, . . . → Read More: a few november pics It’s hard for me to find a way to describe the beauty of what happens on many nights during my walk, when I crawl into my sleeping bag and wait for sleep to crash down on me. I’m not overly poetic, and I don’t pretend that I have any skill in that department, it always seems . . . → Read More: night poem |
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