Last July in Albuquerque a tall, thin, noisy woman walked through the hotel glass doors, hollered my name, hollered the name of someone else, hugged a man, and hugged me, all the while doing that Indian nose nod thing to everyone in sight.
On an unusually warm November day, the Indian Scout and I headed for Lake Superior's Wisconsin Point to gauge the trash situation. To our relief, not much garbage marred the famous three-mile sand bar for which FDL Band Members once literally fought tooth and nail.
The Scout appeared borderline giddy about a proposed drive to Itasca State Park to see the state’s largest white pine. Mentioning that tree was like lighting a candle behind his eyes. He glowed.
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