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The memories of my father are like dreams. They exist in the ethers and have a floating sense about them.  They come from younger years,...

A pair of well-worn hiking boots sit on a rock somewhere on a trail on a sunny summer’s day. When I went down, I went down hard, the left...

A special kind of foolishness has compelled me in the past to make the drive to my favorite trail when the roads are slick from a...

“Great morning, isn’t it?” I called out. He smiled without turning. “I believe I can finally put the snow boots away,” he said. We were...