As I recall, Jason was thirteen years old when he guided me upslope from the Rio Grande Reservoir where I met him the morning after arranging with his boss, Ralph Conkey, to pack me up to a place called Rincon La Osa. Jason quickly lashed my backpack to a mule, we mounted our horses, and off we went with very little discussion aside from brief introduction. But as we eased our way up into high country, Jason opened up and talked about how he had come from Oklahoma to work the summer for...

Learning to ride a bicycle at age five on a friend's bike which had no training wheels, the thrill of it stuck and I've been biking ever since. The first bicycle our family had was a hand-me-down gift from relatives and it was a good bike, but it was a girl's model which I tried not to be seen riding around the neighborhood too much. A couple of years later we got a proper boy's bike with the ball-racking top tube which brought a lot of pain, but I rode it a lot until it was stolen. We got it...

There are good vultures and bad. The bad ones are biologically human, and they are the ones to avoid–never good to catch sight of. The avian kind are always a welcome sight, and this year they have decided to roost in large numbers in tall trees near the new parcel. Watching them soar in and circle overhead before choosing a branch to claim for sleeping space is a delightful experience. It's good to see them out and about cleaning up the dead. Seeing the other kind circling to descend upon...