Elroy Bode

IN CLINT In the late afternoon I drive down to Clint to be in touch with its small-town pleasures. I walk along the canal, and the clumps of yellowed grass in the sandy ground, the half-buried beer tabs, the broken … Read More

I REMEMBER CARLTON STOKES In his prime As he drove toward his ranch in the June heat, he looked out at the land and it was almost like an extension of his body: solid, stable, enduring. The pastures, the fences, … Read More

I don’t know how to start writing again after so long an absence. I cannot make words move. They have become heavy weights. I resist them–or, fancifully, they resist me. I am uncomfortable trying to use them. Words enabled me … Read More

EARTH-LIFE I need the earth-life, the ordinary countryside moment, but I cannot make this deep affection seem important to most people I know. On occasion friends look indulgently with me toward the trees or fields that I am showing them, … Read More