Two weeks traveling with a friend to the west, – from Illinois, to Missouri, to Oklahoma, Texas, New Mexico,

Arizona, and California.  The occasion for the trip was a book which my friend plans to write, a definitive book about the history and importance of carousel animals for American culture.  I felt lucky to accompany him, to assist with the set up of a necessary onsite photo studio to capture images of animals in possession of collectors who had agreed to have their animals photographed.

I am home again.  The return home always feels good.  I am no

Ulysses, separated for years from home and family.  Nevertheless our home in Batavia, Illinois is where I belong.  I missed my responsibilities, the presence of my wife and family, the routine which includes my friends, and the Geneva Starbucks where I begin each day wrestling with words.

What will I remember about the trip out west?  I will remember most table conversations with individuals who I would not have met otherwise: the

hospitality of the Dearth’s of Pine Ridge Arabians in Albuquerque; the hikes in the desert outside of Kingman, Arizona while we stayed with Pam and Charlie; the days we stayed in Los Angeles, Dr. Rol Summit was a gracious host; a day spent with Ed and Adriana Roth in the carving shop at A&E Sculpting and Paint Studio..  There were others who were warm, hospitable, eager to exchange what they have learned about carousel animals.

Is this not how culture advances, adding layers of enrichment to the benefit of future generations?  It is a hand-off, the apprenticeship of the living, to those who have departed, — appreciating, appropriating an inherited legacy of passion and skill which in turn is to be passed on…

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Always there is a song to get us through.  Walking On Broken Glass by Annie Lennox…