Greetings from Porterville, CA, where I am doing two weeks of author visits in schools. It’s a different world here in the San Joaquin Valley — orchards of almond and oranges, instead of Oregon hazelnuts; fields of grapes-soon-to-be-raisins, instead of grass seed and mint; feedlots of 1,000 dairy cows that confirm my lactose intolerance, instead of blue herons grazing the pastures for frogs that confirm . . . um, confirm why I don’t eat frogs?
Or something like that.
Anyway, the point is that despite all of the bad news we are constantly bombarded with, and multiple reasons to embrace cynicism, I just . . . can’t.
No, won’t.
Travel reminds me that America is both varied and beautiful. And not just the landscape. We are a nation of multiple shades. Any differences are far outweighed by the common thread of humanity. Our collective waters run deep. Yes, we’ve still have a LONG way to go, but that doesn’t negate the progress we’ve made.
Progress. A nice thought. And who leads the charge? Storytellers play a big part, I believe. Write on, my friends. Tell your stories in all of their glorious diversity.
Tom, who is prone to sudden fits of optimism, and glad of it.
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The amazing waters of Clear Lake, Oregon.
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