I’m biking the river bottoms with my son when we encounter an elderly hiker on the trail. He wears a wide-brimmed hat and has a German Shepherd held firmly in place by the collar. Not wishing to spook the animal, I bring the knobby tires of my mountain bike to a halt. “Hold up, son,” … Continue reading Artemis of the River Bottoms
Author: crowcityblog
Recycled Memories
I lived in only two homes growing up. Some people move a great deal and know different cities and make different friends. My parents were cautious people and that made me a cautious person. It’s really not such a bad quality since children need stability. My wife nags me sometimes to buy a bigger house … Continue reading Recycled Memories
The Man of the House
My youngest son and I have a joke we share. Before I leave for work, I tell him he is the man of the house while I am gone. This started last spring when his kindergarten class was quarantined and his older brother still got to go to school. Now I say he’s the man … Continue reading The Man of the House
Ghosts in the Machine
Have we all become ghosts in a machine beyond our understanding? I've lost track of my passwords. What am I without them? Our technologies provide a flicker of shadow on the cave wall, a bit of light to let us know we still exist. So alienated from nature and addicted to our reflections we have … Continue reading Ghosts in the Machine
Dirty Money
My father kept essential personal items like his wallet and car keys on a shelf near the front door of the trailer. As a boy, my dad was something of a mystery to me and I was keenly interested in these things. He had a silver Timex watch. “Takes a licking and keeps on ticking,” … Continue reading Dirty Money
Hoop Medicine
My youngest son splashes in the lake with his mother as I anxiously pan the beach for Miles. At last, I feel a momentary pang of love as I recognize him among the frolicking, half-clad children. He is bent over, digging a hole in the sand with a shovel. Wait. I take a step closer … Continue reading Hoop Medicine
The Range of Normal
The seventh grade was a frightening new world filled with children who behaved with the abandon of wild animals. My father dropped me off in the school parking lot. I rode in the frontseat with my mother in the back. After I got out, my father would pull away with her looking out the window. … Continue reading The Range of Normal
Trash Fishing
We celebrated my 49th birthday by dining at Al’s Breakfast in the Dinkytown neighborhood of Minneapolis. My wife and kids feasted on pancakes while I enjoyed bacon and eggs with what might have been the most scrumptious wheat toast I’ve ever consumed. Amazingly, this hole-in-the-wall establishment has been in business since 1950. It has no … Continue reading Trash Fishing
Reclamation
Riprap Sushi
The Big Sioux River is stained darker than my morning coffee from all the silt and manure that’s washed off the farmland upstream. I’m fishing below the spillway after leaving my sons to play at their cousin’s house. I caught a couple good walleyes at this spot years ago--that other lifetime before I was married. … Continue reading Riprap Sushi
Crow City 