Tag Archives: Walt Franklin

Transitions

Anticipating an August road trip out West, I recalled several earlier trips taken with my wife and kids– one trip just two years ago, and others, oh, way back… Perhaps the highlight of one westward transition occurred as we stopped … Continue reading

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Reflections on a Gentle Art

  The Genesee River near Shongo, New York was flowing weakly and with water almost too warm for trout survival. I found a stretch of river cool enough for an evening of fly fishing and began hooking and releasing hatchery … Continue reading

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The Far and Fine, from Home

1. The sun on rusted rails extending through a chain of ponds. Sun that softens the edge of ice; walkin’ blues colored by a smile. Sun reflecting from an eagle; thermals of the western ridge. The sun on a leaning … Continue reading

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An Excuse To Be…

The arrival of March is always an exciting time for me, no matter what the weather’s like. It can be cold and snowy, wet and windy, or warm enough by day to get the sap flowing skyward through the maple … Continue reading

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Taking Flight

Many of you who have followed this blog for a while understand that I seldom honk my horn, attempting to promote the books I write. Occasionally, though, a new work is issued and I’m justly proud to release it like … Continue reading

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Where the Owl Lives

The gentle snowstorm slowed my uphill walk. The wet, accumulating snow felt cool but comfortable. The whiteness was a blanket for a dark interior, a surface for the place where the owl lived high on Dryden Hill. The snow accentuated … Continue reading

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Reaching Out

1. In spring the surface of an orchard pond is broken into circles as the trout begin to feed. It’s like a fantasy gifted by the kingbird in its flight– away to the pear tree’s pearly blossoms. In summer the … Continue reading

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The Wild Boy Cycle, 1870

Winter: Klukey died in a bear trap he had set near Kettle Creek. Klukey died three miles from his cabin, wandering in the deep snow till his feet accidently struck the pan. Those jaws sprang up– held him through the … Continue reading

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Autumn Letter

The day begins like a sheet of paper waiting for words. Its composition won’t go digital until later, when darkness comes again. Two bald eagles sit together on a carcass near the road as I go speeding by, wishing I … Continue reading

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A Thin Man Fishing

Physically, the thin man isn’t really thin but, looking at a thread-bare autumn day, he felt that way– just basic flesh and bone, reduced to seasonal elements. His summer garments had been stripped away, replaced by heavy clothing to ward … Continue reading

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