Friday, 5:53 pm.
Cool day, overcast, temps in the 40s. Definitely feels like fall. Got into the office early and combed through three different story drafts. One piece may be ready. The other two aren't far behind. Been taking my time with the revisions, though not all of it has been intentional, all three pieces having fought back much of the way. I’d like to believe it’s some kind of growth process—that I’m learning something new—but the advances seem to come out of nowhere, and not necessarily because of any of rational decision-making process. Guess we’ll see if future works benefit from this long drought-like summer.
Learned from my brother today that a new cabin is going up not far from ours. Wasn’t sure what to think about that. The land there in the Bighorns hasn’t changed a lick in fifty years, and since I’ve never been big on either people or progress, I suppose I’m looking at a readjustment period. I’ve been telling myself all day that my grandfather (who left us the land) would have welcomed the newcomers, and I should do the same. I know it’ll take me a while to convince myself of that, but there’s nowhere else to go with it. Best thing to do is make the most of what’s here, now. A good day’s fall fishing will mend a whole lot of everything.