Fragments From Floyd: June 2002 Archives
June 5, 2002
Summer LightningThe animals have been tended, my wife and son have left for work, and I am alone watching the first rays of a humid, empty day through the windows. I am in my slippers, merely waiting, early into my second month “between jobs”. Waiting: on epiphanies, promised calls, revelation, solace, inspiration.There are few places I would rather be today than in our remote valley in Floyd County, this land that envelops us, a country that is more like home than anywhere we have ever lived. I drink the last of the morning coffee in the midst of a sanctuary of harmony and light that my eyes and internal rhythms are just now adjusting to, and it feels to me as if a healing is happening here. Solitude, health, natural beauty, time empty waiting to be filled and a smattering of expectation– blessings brought home to me in the dark, last night.
So begins one of the earliest of Fred First’s Fragments From Floyd post’s. It was these words and more like them I discovered buried in the archives of FFF that eventually led to the purchase of a book. A purchase consummated before the book had physical structure, a book taken from those very same archives, words polished like the stones from the creek beside the house in that hollow in Floyd County.
I was playing around tonight building the beginnings of a commonplace book of days, based on an idea from Kate who posted about whiskey rivers commonplace book. One of the quotes I had saved to notebook way back when dealt with Anne’s falls at FFF. That sent me wandering back to see how far I could travel into the past at Fragments…It seems I can get all the way back (correct me if I’m wrong Fred), June 2002…
I know Fred is having some difficulties getting the archive to working in WordPress, but it’s all there, read it if you haven’t chanced that way before. Follow the growth of a blogger turned author…
Actually somewhere there are some posts back to March 2002, but I think I imagined this blog thing being a flash in the pan, and kept it private, sending the address only to my children–who never bothered to come around after all and enter the conversation. It’s a wonder I persisted, except it didn’t take long to discover I had no choice. I had to write, and I could not and would not do it if I didn’t have companions for the journey. Who could have known then where it would take us–is still taking us?
And by the way, this is a nice looking blog theme ya got going here. And the random header! What’s not to like. : > }
I have to admit I’m somewhat glad there was some unnamed blogger having trouble with this very same theme, whose troubles provoked the problem solver in me till I tried this theme…Thanks.