My border collies are always out ahead of me when we hike through the mid-elevation forests of ponderosa pine and Douglas fir. They move fast between the trees, disappearing into the shadows and popping up on a ridge fifty yards ahead. I keep moving at my own steady, deliberate pace, watching them work the woods ahead of me.
Jess, at three and a half, carries herself differently. She moves with confidence, casting a wide, thoughtful arc through the trees. Where Ridge is pure energy, she is composure. She doesn't waste steps. She knows this rhythm, this land, and she knows me
Sometimes they drift apart, each absorbed in the layered language of scent and movement. When that happens, it is Ridge who turns back first. He climbs to a slight rise and stills himself, head high, scanning the forest for Jess. In that moment the puppy disappears. What stands there is a young dog learning partnership.
He waits—not anxious, just attentive. He trusts the country, but he trusts her even more. When Jess comes back out from the trees, steady as ever, he runs right up to her, licking her face like he's checking in. She takes it calmly, as if she knew all along he'd come looking for her.
I take quiet pride in how comfortable they are out there. I started Jess young, and Ridge even younger. I let them wander, but I built their habits with patience and repetition. Freedom wasn't reckless, and distance wasn't abandonment. We practiced moving apart and coming back—again and again—until returning was as natural as ranging out.
Now I rarely need to call. A shift in direction, a soft whistle, even my change in pace—and they arc back toward me. Not because they must, but because that is how we move together.
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From a distance it might look unremarkable: an aging man walking behind two young border collies in a wide forest. But from inside it, it feels like something earned. Wildness held in trust. Joy without fear. Three creatures moving through ponderosa and granite, separate yet inseparable, perfectly in sync.
#bordercollie #Colorado #yolo #ponderosapine #mystoryedited
More border collie in pine forest, March 5, 2026 videos at this link.
Last week I shared a short storytelling program with students at a local school. For the first fifteen minutes, I told stories about the sea and Southeast Asia—about the Bajau Laut sea people, the bagan and rompong fishing platforms used during the dark nights of the new moon, and the devastating 2004 Indian Ocean tsunami off the west coast of Indonesia.
For the second half of the presentation, I showed photos and short videos from five trips I’ve made to the Coral Triangle. Seeing media that I had taken myself seemed to bring the stories to life, and the students and teachers were clearly engaged.
Seeing those images again reminded me how special those trips were—and it made me think I should return before I completely age out of this kind of travel. Maybe next year, once my puppy Ridge is a little older.
Natalie, one of the owners of Limangu Dive Resort on Siau Island, once told me that spring is the best time of year for calm seas around Siau. Hearing that again in my head makes the idea of another trip even harder to resist.
#siauisland #bunakenisland #indonesia #coraltriangle
Since 2007, I’ve stepped into classrooms to see if I could catch a student’s imagination and hold it for a while. Some of my stories are pulled from the dusty corners of history; others are the timeless "once-upon-a-times" of fairy tales and children's books. The variety keeps the air fresh, a constant reminder that a good story doesn't just entertain—it instructs the heart.
Today, I visited six classrooms.
We traveled to Indonesia to meet the Bajo Laut, the sea nomads who live their lives governed by the tides. We talked about bagans and rompong fishing platforms, and the harrowing 49-day journey of 18-year-old Aldi Aldilong. When his fishing hut broke loose in a storm, he drifted 1,000 miles across the open sea before his rescue near Guam.
We also revisited the 2004 tsunami. We didn't just talk about the magnitude 9 earthquake; we talked about 10-year-old Tilly Smith. Because she remembered her geography lessons, she saw the warning signs in the receding tide and alerted the adults. Her courage cleared the beach, proving to every student in the room that a child’s voice can save a hundred lives.
On other days, the stories are more whimsical, drawn from favorite books or ancient lore. But whether the hero is a real boy on a raft or a girl in a fairy tale, the goal is always the same: to spark a curiosity that doesn't end when the bell rings.
After nearly twenty years, it’s easy to let this work become a routine. But then I walk through the front doors and hear a chorus of “Hi, Mr. Jim!” echoing down the hallway. It’s a quiet, grounding reminder of what a privilege it is to be invited into their world. #storytelling #spellbinders #spellbinders.org
I’ve officially downsized. After years of providing eggs for the neighborhood, I sold off the flock, keeping only five: two friendly "pets with feathers" and three Rhode Island Reds. My neighbors might be disappointed, but honestly, there is nothing wrong with switching things up—especially with five cabin reservations on the calendar this summer and a trip to Monterey with my daughter and her husband in October. I’m done with the stress of hiring daily egg-collectors every time I leave town.
The young Leghorns were the ones that finally broke me. On warm nights, they flatly refused to sleep inside the run. They’d perch on the outdoor shelves with total defiance. I’d put them back; two hours later, they’d be right back on the same shelf with the same attitude.
Eventually, I started taking the border collies out at 10 p.m. for "predator awareness training." The dogs would chase them into the run—a chaotic routine, but still kinder than a fox.
The final departure was a full-scale production. Reynaldo showed up with a net, which is apparently the professional way to handle a chicken. It took 90 minutes of "athletic accomplishment" to get them loaded. As we finished, Reynaldo asked how I even ended up with so many hens. I told him about ordering them as chicks from Hoover Hatchery and picking them up at the post office, but I had to admit: I’ve been asking myself the same question lately.
They’re headed to a place near Colorado Springs with more room to roam. Five chickens is a hobby; what I had before was a second career. I already feel more in control of my life.
#layinghens #chickens #backyardfarmer