Psst, Wanna Join the Friends of a Long Year?

Say what?

Friends of a Long Year is a private mailing list bringing stories to your inbox like it's still 1995. It's written in the spirit of Mary Austin. It was originally called Place Without a Postcard, which does a better job of summarizing what I like to write about. Friends is delivered roughly twice a month.


An Invitation: Welcome Friends

Hundred Acre Wood, South Carolina, U.S. I started a club in the form of an email newsletter. If you'd like to join or know why you might want to, and where the name comes from, read on.


Hundred Acre Wood, South Carolina, U.S. A rock star, a rock star leopard, and a rock star flying squirrel walk into a bar... a candy bar that is.

Walking the North Carolina Woods

Shining Rock Wilderness Area, North Carolina, U.S. As long as we've had feet, humans have been walking everywhere we can. This fall seemed like a good time to get back to that original mode of travel.

The Light Is Clear In My Eyes

Hundred Acre Wood, South Carolina, U.S. Summer heat never bothers me. It's the humidity. These days I find myself itching for that first moment the humidity breaks and you can feel Autumn in the air.

Summer Teeth

Hundred Acre Wood, South Carolina, U.S. I am so far behind telling these stories I am skipping a few things in the interest of catching up. I spent most of the summer unable to write. Unwilling perhaps? I'm not sure, all I know is I feel like I lost a summer.


Hundred Acre Wood, South Carolina, U.S. Happy birthday girls. I can't believe it's been only eight years since you arrived, it feels like you have always been here, like we have all always been here.

Now and Then It Keeps You Running

Hundred Acre Wood, South Carolina, U.S. Between frugality, a pandemic, and wanting to avoid the soul-sucking of consumer culture that eats at us all, we ended up just camping in the house we rented. Who needs furniture anyway?

Wouldn’t It Be Nice

Hundred Acre Wood, South Carolina, U.S. Living in an RV won't make you self-sufficient, it'll make you something better: self-reliant.

Hands on the Wheel

Hundred Acre Wood, South Carolina, U.S. I once had the opportunity to float for a while in the confluence of two great rivers. It was hot, the middle of summer in the Utah desert. I waded out into the cold water and floated along for a while, half my body in the Yampa River, half in the Green River.


Athens, Georgia, U.S. Three years on the road.

Distant Early Warning

Hunting Island State Park, South Carolina, U.S. There is nothing like a good storm by the sea. The smell of salt on the wind, the slash and clatter of palms as the wind comes ashore.

Snow Day

Watson Mill State Park, Georgia, U.S. Anyone living north of Georgia will probably chuckle at this amount of snow, but it was enough to put smiles on everyone's faces.


Watson Mill State Park, Georgia, U.S. The quiet winter forest, full of that cold naked, dazzling light, is the perfect place to remain still and watch, learn.


Newport Beach, California, U.S. The peculiar habit of leaving home for fun.


Charleston, South Carolina, U.S. The world is large, feet are small, better get started.

Holiday Island

Edisto Island, South Carolina, U.S. Christmas at the beach in Edisto, South Carolina. The real Santa Claus is the ocean.

Birthday at the Beach

Edisto Island, South Carolina, U.S. Last year we promised Elliott that he and I would have our birthday at the beach. This year we made it happen.


Watson Mill State Park, Georgia, U.S. Land reciprocates. The deeper you go, the more it reaches out to you, into you. The more you become part of the land, the world, the more it becomes part of you.


Athens, Georgia, U.S. Civilization is overrated, but it does have candy. And we sure do like waterproof clothes that allow us to play outside in the rain.

County Fair

Richard B Russell State Park, Georgia, U.S. Stumbling onto the Elberton 12-county fair with its rides, snow cones, horses, and the banana derby.

Back to Raysville

Raysville, Georgia, U.S. Heading back to Raysville, our first stop after leaving Athens nearly three years ago

Bird Watching

Fort Yargo State Park, Georgia, U.S. Most mornings I am up early to hear the signature sound of whippoorwills and the occasional owl. By the time I'm having coffee the forest has shift to morning sounds: the song birds warbling, red-bellied woodpeckers drumming, the shrieks of a red-tailed hawk.