While the boss was in the mercantile, these good buddies partnered up for a deserved break on a long summer day.


Bringing In The Hay (With A Little Help)


A young man and his Supervisor were raking hay on the afternoon that my wife and I passed, during a walk in the lovely English countryside near Grassington.

Coffee With A Good Friend

A quiet corner for two in York, England, on the River Ouse.

“We are alone, absolutely alone on this chance planet: and, amid all the forms of life that surround us, not one, excepting the dog, has made an alliance with us.” —Maurice Maeterlinck

The Morning Run

Sedburgh, England, at the base of the Howgill Fells in Yorkshire, is…well, let them tell their story. I’ve lifted the following verbatim from the town’s official Web site:

Sedbergh is a town of about 3,000 people in the Yorkshire Dales National Park in north-west England. An ancient market town, Sedbergh has a famous public school, Sedbergh School, it has a thriving main street of shops, ancient buildings, and is surrounded by moorland hills. Sedbergh is England’s book town

Smart dogs know it’s also a fine place for a morning run.

When I Yell At My Dog

“The average dog is a nicer person than the average person.” —Andy Rooney

Do you ever have one of those days when, instead of being humbled by your relative good fortune, part of your brain hyperventilates about all those things you were going to do but haven’t yet and your hair’s thinning and which camera should you buy and what does it matter anyway, and then to top it off you yell at a perfectly innocent dog? Like she asked to go outside and squat in the rain?

When I lose my temper like that there’s usually something bothering me that’s just out of sight in the back of my mind.

I know it isn’t politics that’s aggravated me—I’ve given up on seeing true partisanship in my lifetime and am at peace with that notion. It could be spiritual in nature, but I’ve only recently thought seriously about those matters (at least consciously: it’s impossible to know what’s been brewing inside all these years).

What about things, then? Do I have enough of them? All of my cameras are old, and will be obsolete but usable soon (one is already). Why does grass look greener across the fence-line? But I’m sure that isn’t it, either: my lens selection is well-thought-out, and I have outlets for my photos when I take them. Scratch that off the list.

Could it simply be that I’m vexing myself by wasting time over things I can’t change?

Whatever causes these periodic lapses isn’t the dog’s fault, that much is clear.

And, since she is a dog, she’s gratefully accepted my apology.