When I go on my daily(ish) walks, I end up on Crane Boulevard. It has a creek that runs along it, and when Willie Morris lived here, he called it Purple Crane Creek. That name appears on no map – just in his heart.
The time change and the political chaos and all of it has been so damned heavy, and I haven’t walked this week and so today I said “To hell with it, I’m going for a walk!” and I’m so glad I did.
It’s November – deep into fall now, and there is still so much green and yellow and various hues, and I loved the way they all reflected in the water here.
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