Walking is a redress for the explosion of attention-grabbing stimuli in modern society.

The sky burned a ruddy yellow as I passed above the gorge below, its rocky sides scoured 80 years ago for material to create the earthfill dam

Enhanced geothermal both generates additional electricity supply, and it functionally serves as short-term energy storage.

It was the sort of day that felt like a memory. Like running through grassy fields, feeling carefree, an optimism born of springtime and rebirth.

This elementary picture of warm and cold fronts, based only on how the density of air varies with temperature, explains pretty much all of my experience over the past week.

Down a strip of asphalt through the trees next to the interstate we rumbled. Roots heaved the path, that old cushy cruiser seat absorbing the shock quite well.

Yesterday, I reached the Cherokee National Forest. This is the name of the people group who were removed from this region and sent to Oklahoma in the 1830s.

Though national parks may be a small contributor to the large-scale genocide of people and cultures, they played a role and, by continuing the myth of being undisturbed by humans apart from the modern tourist, continue to do so.

A glissando of rain lashes down. Wind blares through the trees, shaking limbs, rattling.

Snow on vibrant moss and fern is the epitome of freshness. Green and white, like a spearmint candy.