This must be the place: ‘I pulled off into a forest, crickets clicking in the ferns’
Late Monday morning. While taking a sip of my coffee at the Main Street Diner in Waynesville, I scanned the room at the tables filled with faces enjoying warm meals and hearty conversation. It was at that very moment when I started thinking about this anonymous postcard I received several years ago.
This must be the place: ‘It’s hard enough to gain any traction in the rain’
It’s Thursday. Early afternoon. In the original plan for this week, I would, in my mind’s eye, be cruising along right now somewhere in southcentral Upstate New York, probably just east of Binghamton on Interstate 88, onward to I-87 North to my parents’ farmhouse on the outskirts of Plattsburgh.
Break free, rolling stone: Justin Osborne of Susto
When it comes to modern-day singer-songwriters, Justin Osborne is becoming a fast-rising face in the musical realms of Americana, alt-country and indie-rock, his poignant words cutting through the white noise and endless distraction of a chaotic, digital world.
This must be the place: “Sudden illumination, sudden awakening or simply kick in the eye”
Peering through the window blinds of the motel room, the sunshine felt yesterday afternoon was long gone and now replaced by an early morning haze of clouds and a slight drizzle.
This must be the place: ‘Olden times and ancient rhymes, of love and dreams to share’ (Part Two)
Somewhere between the treadmill and the free weights of the complimentary fitness center, my mind started thinking on all the different hotels and cities I’ve found myself in this past year. This go-round it was the Cambria in Columbia, South Carolina.