This is another sketch I found in one of my 1992 journals. I was seated outside the Foreman Cabin in Montana, facing the impressive Sawtooth Mountains in Glacier National Park. Shirtless and carefree, I drank a beer and smoked cigarettes while composing poems inspired by my surroundings. This was the summer that Jason and I moved to Seattle together (a year after I’d moved there by myself).

       The journal entry reads: “Find the old 1930’s typewriter in the cabin, spend time alone at the ranch, typing poems, letters”

       I remember that a brown bear cub tumbled playfully into my writing space, and I feared that the mother bear was probably nearby. I had to take refuge in the cabin and leave my poetry until the cub eventually ambled away. Brown bears and Grizzlie Bears frequent the North Fork, and even in my blissful state with the typewriter, I always remained vigilant.