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...
Clouds and Shadows

Clouds and Shadows

By Kevin Carrel Footer The afternoon is bright. There are a few creampuff clouds in the sky – isolated, pristine, sovereign – and trailing them dark stains on the water’s surface. Above, they are all majesty and pomp; below, they are a flat discoloration on a muddy...

Nothing is Everything

By Kevin Carrel Footer Nothing, in spite of its bad press, is quite something – especially when compared to the alternatives. So many of the things that press around us filling our time and space are so bland and pointless that emptiness becomes a refuge. Emptiness at...

The Cowboy Hat and the Tango Shoes

by Kevin Carrel Footer Thirty or so years ago, I met a man in California who offered to teach me to ride horses. This had been an abiding desire of mine, so I jumped at the offer. The next Saturday I was out at his place ready to ride. He lived in a house he had built...