The Chapel in the Signal Box

I chanced upon this signal box behind a truckstop in Kingman, Arizona where we spent the night. I woke early and walked between the trucks as the sun came up over the desert. Truckers in overalls emerged groggy from their cabs, each carrying a wide-mouth thermos...

Beyond the West

After the West begins the Beyond, a place of inscrutable intentions and cross-purposes that blow you off-course like the gusts over Altamont Pass, where contraptions of precarious beauty born of human hubris float like effigies on the once-pristine hills now stained...

Truckstops of the Sublime

There are truckstops of such sublime, searing beauty. I took this picture from a patch of dirt off to the side. This is the overflow lot where a few diesel trucks had parked to get their statutory rest, away from the noise of the semis downshifting from freeway speed...

To Write and to Explore

By Kevin Carrel Footer COBSCOOK BAY, MAINE – I have always been about exploring: the big house, my dad’s locked closet, a woman’s body, the backroads of this world, myself. The great explorers of the New World, of the Artics? They have nothing on me. This...

The Poetry of All Things

by Kevin Carrel Footer Walking, I chanced upon this beach scene: a wooden spool, a stripped branch, an eroding cliff. It fascinated me, these leavings of nature and man. They had been gathered by tides in that beach-end, then placed by mankind (except the cliff which...