Visited an old friend recently. He lives up on the Nevada side of Lake Tahoe.

Great fun, catch-up conversations, random topics, easy chats, good food, bevies, some live music, good night’s sleep…

All of this amounted to a nice reset for the soul,

Rooted.

Too, rooted in names and places, my buddy, Euro-Alpine origins generations, paying homage to Tyrolian places,

Then too a place named for Carson, near a place named for Virginia, two generations back, two people, a guy, a gal, a nuptial commitment, on their own, then a lifetime together, started there in that place named after Carson, led to my origins,

Then another place down the road, Genoa, oldest continuously operated thirst parlor Nevada…maybe in the west,

Ancient place, recollecting back well over a century, dating back to Lincoln’s murderer, old places,

Roots. They’re what bind us, inspire us, help define us, if we want, if we let them.

Roots to an old friend and time, still connected today;

Roots to mountains and places not so far away, connecting me earlier times, earlier family now gone, happy times still possible,

Roots to lay down, remember, celebrate again, again,

And be inspired, steeled, fortified, to make it good.

Roots.

GOOD.