#sorestad

[dabiconcordia]

Make It Last A flash of orange and black through sun-splattered aspen leaves, the faintest glimpse of Baltimore Oriole; or the brilliant scarlet shoulder sheen as a Red-winged Blackbird warbles from its wind-bent cat-tail perch; or a high-above dissonant clamour of a passing startle of Snow Geese etched white on unmarred blue: rare moments the willfully blind view as commonplace, or do not see. Beauty surrounds us—no charge, no previous experience needed. Stand awhile. Look and listen. Make it last. by Glen Sorestad

[adnamaaaaaaaaa]

"Still, perhaps there's a smidgeon of comfort we can glean from your visit, that despite our failures and seeming lack of will to do what's right, this day suggests that hope manifests itself in most unexpected places and wondrous ways."

Glen Sorestad, Snowy Owl Snarls Traffic in Saskatoon

[americanahighways]

Video Premiere: Arun O'Connor "Too Far Gone"

Video Premiere: Arun O'Connor "Too Far Gone" @arunoconnor @ue3promotions @jenlyneis #americanamusic #toofargone #newmusic2021

Arun O’Connor — “Too Far Gone” Americana Highways presents this video premiere of Arun O’Connor’s song “Too Far Gone,” from his forthcoming album Songs from the Reading Room. The song was produced and mixed by Jay Tooke, then mastered by Nathan Dantzler at The Hitlab. “Too Far Gone” was written by O’Connor, Ryan Sorestad, Brittany Knott & Taylor Nash. “Too Far Gone” is Jay Tooke on drums and…

[davidaolson]

Betraying The Christ

The war his country asked of him convinced him war has no heroes. Only the dead. The cost of violence is always more violence. ~Glen Sorestad

I am sick to death of the older generation the vast majority that never set foot in the military calling for war. It’s an easy call, a hypocritical call now that they are safe from conscription, thousands of miles distant from flying metal teeth devouring…

[culturaoltre]

“"Betulle danzanti” - Poesie scelte di Glen Sorestad - recensione a cura di Rita Bompadre -

“”Betulle danzanti” – Poesie scelte di Glen Sorestad – recensione a cura di Rita Bompadre –

Con piacere pubblico la recensione a cura di Rita Bompadre, cui va il nostro saluto e un ringraziamento per aver scelto la nostra rivista per condividere le sue note critiche al libro “Betulle danzanti” – Poesie scelte di Glen Sorestad – traduzione di Angela D’Ambra(Impremix Edizioni, 2020) è un riconoscimento all’esemplarità del mondo naturale, una cartolina d’autore in cui ogni paesaggio…

[larry-goodell]

(Larry Goodell)

[kalynalanguagepress]

Book reviews: Anne Campbell, Jim Harris and Glen Sorestad, and a short story collection https://t.co/Tv0q8y7Lut

Book reviews: Anne Campbell, Jim Harris and Glen Sorestad, and a short story collection https://t.co/Tv0q8y7Lut

— KalynaLanguagePress (@KalynaPress) September 16, 2017

from Twitter https://twitter.com/KalynaPress September 16, 2017 at 07:36PM via IFTTT

[morninglightthroughwindows]

aide memoire

The world begins and ends in memory; what I remember is what I am. Did that blade of grass I plucked as a boy to vibrate with my breath really burst the air with shrillness? A remembered world holds truth and realities far clearer than echoes. In the cupped hands of remembrance the thin green reed of what we are trembles with a sound so rare.  / Glen Sorestad

[dabiconcordia]

Source: From the Archives : 1935 Ford Hemmings Motor News.jpg

1935 Ford

I close my eyes and I can still see him behind the wheel of a green ‘35 Ford, his grey Fedora* tilted just so, a suggestion of debonair, both hands thumbs up on the wheel, a lifetime habit learned from herding gravel trucks with primitive steering across the rough early roads of the plains.

But most of all, I can see his smile, the easy grin of a man at home behind the wheel, his view of the world panoramic, a great rolling vista, humming to himself and smiling, scrutinizing the standstill world as if it were his feudal manor, his throne the driver’s seat. By Glen Sorestad

Fedora a low, soft felt hat with a curled brim and the crown creased lengthwise

[dabiconcordia]

Source: William J. Armstrong California. Smith Redwoods, US Rt 199 .jpg

What We See in the Mirror

He looks in the mirror and what he sees is a ’53 Oldsmobile Super Sport, a sleek two-tone hardtop convertible, robin’s egg blue with snowy top. He is 21, delirious with joy, behind the wheel, left arm at rest on the open window frame.

He looks again and now there is a ’54 Chevy sedan, washed-out blue, plain as faded denims. He is 23, flying towards the woman who will be co-pilot of his future.

Now in the mirror he sees a green ’64 Ford Falcon, only two doors – to keep their three small kids from misadventure and he is now 27.

Next in the mirror is a bronze-toned ’67 Impala with V-8 engine enough to power a family of six and he is 30.

On the streets of Santiago de Cuba, now in his 70s, his mirror presents an ongoing cavalcade of vintage autos and at any moment now, he expects he will meet an earlier self, waving at him from behind some steering wheel. By Glen Sorestad