Home and Back

Returned a little while ago from my Kalamazoo trip. The family was doing well, though they informed me that an uncle who lived in another state had recently died. I wasn't close to him, but the rare occasions when I saw him were always pleasant. One of the most personable men I've ever met, good hearted and infallibly charming.

The concert Wednesday night went very well. My former director was caught off guard by the throngs of former students who mounted the stage to sing for him one last time. A remarkable man, who doesn't seem to have slowed down a bit in spite of a teaching career of 40 years. He even has less grey hair than I do!

Visiting Kalamazoo these days is a strange experience. I'm pretty disconnected from the place now, but when I go back, I'm reminded (acutely so on this trip) of the intimacy I once had with it. The city of the past seems close--at least to a younger self that survives only in memory--while the city of the present seems remote, though interesting enough in its own right.

Took along my fishing gear in hopes of stalking a K'zoo area creek for an hour or two on the way home, but the rain and chill of the day quashed that. Drove straight back, save for a stop at Dark Horse Brewing in Marshall for a take-out jug. That's becoming a ritual after visiting the folks.


Checking my email when I got back, I found the posting below on a professional listserv. Encouraging thoughts, courtesy of one Professor Weisberg of Portland, OR.:

Last night, I attended a lecture by Gary Snyder and the ecologist Jerry Franklin on 1980 the eruption of Mount St. Helens, whose 25th anniversary was also yesterday. Franklin's talk was particularly interesting. He said that, to his surprise, the re-establishment of plant ecology didn't come mainly from outside the zone of destruction, as expected, but began popping up from underground in midst of it. A good political lesson, too.