Field Notes

Short entries, kept while still standing there

Not everything becomes an essay. Most of what a day gives you is a sentence or two, and those belong somewhere as well. These are the smallest entries on the site, and often the ones I reread.

An open pocket notebook and pencil on a weathered wood table beside dried grass

The shape of a note

Three lines, written where they happened

A field note is short on purpose. It is written on the tailgate or in the cab before the impression flattens out, and it keeps the same three lines every time.

Conditions

Date, place, weather, light, temperature. The plain facts that let the rest of the note be trusted later.

Observation

One thing actually seen or heard — a bird, a smell of cut beans, a hinge, a name on a mailbox. No interpretation allowed.

Afterthought

A single sentence added later, if one arrives. Many notes never get this line, and that is a fine result.

Entries are being gathered.