They’re Still At It

Every so often I find myself taking a peek at THREW Mikes EyEz, a local blog by Mike Hartley.

This morning his words made my smile as he closed out a recent post with:

My mind has been elsewhere all day so I’m going to go wandering trying to find it. I think some of it flew off the tracks at some point. Be good all.

This is so often the case for me. It’s reassuring to see someone else describe that experience so succinctly. It’s also reassuring to see that he’s still writing. A lot of the local folks whose writing I enjoyed have stopped.

I wrote about Hartley back in 2022 in a piece called Seven Days.

I love his thoughtfulness, his self-deprecating humor. I don’t think you can come away from his posts without thinking a little bit about life and how you want to spend it. And there’s definitely an undercurrent of gratitude in there as well.

Hartley’s photographs are just so good. They are the work of someone with an excellent eye and the patience to keep working and keep getting better over time. He uses them to punctuate his writing in a way that feels like an exquisite chord harmonizing a simple tune and elevating it to something unforgettable.

Another local writer I find myself going back to again and again is Elizabeth T. Brunetti. The name of her blog has changed a bit over the years, but the writing is consistently pure Elizabeth. I love that she has four topics of focus: Food & Drink, Joy Fuel, Travel & Experiences, and Being Human.

Brunetti doesn’t write on any particular schedule but I’m always excited to see a new piece pop up in my Facebook feed. She truly has a way with words.

From “Taking Flight”, May, 2023

Suddenly, a fight breaks out. A bluejay has flown into the bottom branches of the tree, and is squawking at two smaller birds that are also in the tree. They jump about, they yell, they chase. The bluejay wins. A few moments later, I see it leave the tree and fly diagonally across the parking lot to a large oak tree. It has a small, worm-shaped something or other in its beak. Is it a worm? Do worms live in trees?

The bluejay comes back a few moments later. I watch it more closely. Ah. It’s picking twigs off of the tree. Ah. It’s taking the twigs over to the oak tree.

Ah! It’s building a nest!

There will be baby bluejays soon!

All of this life, beauty, simplicity …

Love. Pride. Excitement. Curiosity. Wonder. Expansion. Peace. Joy. It all swells and swirls and expands from my chest, deep in my center. I am so very happy. Right now.

What about you? Are there any local writers that you follow? Is there anyone out there blogging that you think I should know about? We’re a dying breed, I hear. Perhaps I should ask about best local Instagram and TikTok accounts.

Keep me posted.

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