Little Big Moments

I rose early to watch the sunrise over the Grand Canyon. Mather Point was a brisk walk from our campsite in the cool dark. Perhaps because I settled in the amphitheater to watch, I became more and more aware of the sounds.

My wife got her cat when she was in seminary, so she named the feline after the biblical Hebrew word for soul—nephesh. We shortened her name to Neffi.

We took our dog back to the beach this week. I always wonder if she remembers the ocean or if the big blue is a brand-new thrill each time. Maybe the sight should be a wonder for me too, a sight seen and appreciated with new eyes as often as possible.

My eight-year-old son demonstrated the high-five he invented with his best friend, and while I will certainly not divulge the particulars, let me say that the combination of slaps and snaps skipped me back to my own youth when my buddy and I had our own moves. 

Early in our family’s vacation to the mountains, my wife got sick. What awful bad luck! Instead of days spent hiking and evenings sipping adult beverages, she was plastered to the couch, enduring mindless Netflix movies.

Sitting on the outdoor patio at a brewery, there is a book of Barry Lopez’s essays in my hands and, in the distance, the Appalachian Mountains rise into an incomparably blue sky.

Our friends are moving today, and they seem excited, sad, nervous, eager, and hopeful. Earlier this week, I stopped by their house unannounced with a box of Chapel Hill Toffee and a gift card to Door Dash.

My daughter is six-and-a-half years old. She knows that living things need rain in order to grow....

Acknowledgements: little markers and echoes and ghosts of love. When perusing a library or bookstore, I’ll flip to the front or back of a book to read the acknowledgements section.

Pulling open the door to the Gray Squirrel Coffee Co. in Carrboro, I saw a tall stranger striding...