Golf
Early tee times, quiet fairways, and the endless argument with my own swing. I play for the two or three shots a round that come off exactly as imagined.
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A small corner of the internet for the things I keep coming back to — a good round of golf, time in the saddle, a book that refuses to be put down, and photographs from wherever the road took me.
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Four things, in no particular order. Each one has taught me something the others could not.
Early tee times, quiet fairways, and the endless argument with my own swing. I play for the two or three shots a round that come off exactly as imagined.
Nothing recalibrates a week like an hour on a horse. It demands your full attention and gives back a kind of calm you cannot get anywhere else.
History, biography, and the occasional novel that ambushes me. I keep a running list of what stuck, and why it stuck.
Places I have been, and the photographs that survived the cull. Mostly landscapes, a few faces, a lot of early mornings.
Notes from the fairway, the stables, and the reading chair.
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My wife has a standing invitation to add to it — a photo from a trip, a book she thinks I should read, a note about a ride or a round. She signs in, writes it, and I hit publish.
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