Bayou Girl

The heat has been getting to me. Not in the dramatic “I’m melting” kind of way. More in the quiet, heavy sort of way. The kind that makes you forget why you walked outside in the first place. Part of the reason we left Louisiana was to escape summers that felt like you were breathing through a wet towel. Then Illinois decided to remind me that it had been taking notes. For a few weeks I fought it. Then I remembered something nature has always taught me. Adapt… or spend the afternoon...

There are two ways to drive the 193 miles of Highway 2 across Michigan’s Upper Peninsula. Most people are simply trying to get somewhere. I was trying to figure out what happened here. For nearly 200 miles, the road hugs the northern shore of Lake Michigan before eventually turning toward the Mackinac Bridge. The scenery is beautiful, but it wasn’t the lakes that kept stealing my attention. It was everything built beside them. One abandoned motel. Then another. An old motor court. A faded...

Something happened that I wasn’t expecting. Not another record-breaking worm count. Not an escape attempt. Not even Carol catching me in the front yard trying to eliminate what turned out to be a suspicious-looking stick. It was one worm. 🪱 If you’ve followed these field notes, you know I’ve tried to make this whole experience funny. Worm Olympics. Underground worm meetings. Tiny motivational speeches from the worm ringleader. Humor has been my way of carrying something that, if I’m being...