Notes on walking, reading, and slow mornings.
Maple Fog is a small notebook about the ordinary turning of the year — lake walks in the fog, long ridge days, books that take a month, and coffee made slightly better each week.
Fresh from the notebook
The hour after the fog lifts
Most mornings this month begin in white. Then, a little before nine, the lake comes back one shore at a time.
Recent entries
Three books for a long autumn
A short list beats a long one. Three at a time, one of them always something old.
Notes from a ridge walk in late September
Eleven miles, one wrong turn, and the best sandwich of the year eaten on a rock above the clouds.
A short case for paper maps
A phone tells you where you are. A map tells you where everything else is — which turns out to matter more.
Currently reading
“It is very hard to be anxious while watching the world visibly assemble itself.”— from The hour after the fog lifts
From the spring and summer
Learning to brew coffee badly, then less badly
Six weeks, one cheap scale, and a great deal of very sour coffee.
The swifts came back on a Tuesday
Screaming over the rooftops at half past seven, exactly a day later than last year.
What the maples know
Spring notes on the two old trees at the end of the lane, and why I started keeping this notebook at all.