It's summer in snail country and I've got field work. Glorious field work. My season as a desk jockey is over, replaced by days that start at dawn and end at sunset. Sleep is restorative; the spirit is buoyed by sunshine, tradewinds and windward/mauka showers.
I like eating my lunch with dirty hands, sitting on a rotting log at the summit of a mountain in the intermittent rain. I like three days later when the bruises start to show and the scabs start to flake off. I like not checking my e-mail like a crack head. I like my new GPS unit. I like working with that guy in the camo pants. No, the other one.