tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-83577132009-06-21T01:09:34.918-04:00Notes along the Elizabeth"Noted" along the shores of the Elizabeth River.Peter A. Stinsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04609822925630529135noreply@blogger.comBlogger503125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8357713.post-35740235788320444092009-06-21T01:09:00.001-04:002009-06-21T01:09:34.929-04:00All frequencies broadcast-this could be bad if you're following too close: Request feedback job app http://ow.ly/fiWO IRT http://ow.ly/fiVTAll frequencies broadcast-this could be bad if you're following too close: Request feedback job app http://ow.ly/fiWO IRT http://ow.ly/fiVT<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8357713-3574023578832044409?l=notes.peterstinson.com'/></div>Peter A. Stinsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04609822925630529135noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8357713.post-72946439195133809402009-06-05T00:35:00.000-04:002009-06-05T00:35:18.039-04:00Late at night, when the house was silent but for the sound of the air coming through the vents, he'd wonder how the past had led him to where he was.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8357713-7294643919513380940?l=notes.peterstinson.com'/></div>Peter A. Stinsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04609822925630529135noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8357713.post-34133095697514749042009-06-03T22:53:00.000-04:002009-06-03T22:53:08.813-04:00The lure of the screen kept him seated.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8357713-3413309569751474904?l=notes.peterstinson.com'/></div>Peter A. Stinsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04609822925630529135noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8357713.post-16611480720601425842009-06-02T23:57:00.000-04:002009-06-02T23:57:19.325-04:00The 500th post, and he'd been just then ready to just walk away.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8357713-1661148072060142584?l=notes.peterstinson.com'/></div>Peter A. Stinsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04609822925630529135noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8357713.post-4370139450436696932009-06-02T01:35:00.001-04:002009-06-02T01:35:02.460-04:00He suddenly saw what his youth would have been like had the Internet existed then; it scared him, frankly.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8357713-437013945043669693?l=notes.peterstinson.com'/></div>Peter A. Stinsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04609822925630529135noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8357713.post-15036058928579769932009-01-07T09:44:00.001-05:002009-01-07T09:44:55.049-05:00Certain of nothing, he faced the eastern sky, wide and tall.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8357713-1503605892857976993?l=notes.peterstinson.com'/></div>Peter A. Stinsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04609822925630529135noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8357713.post-109381016982354412009-01-03T03:10:00.000-05:002009-01-03T03:12:43.725-05:00Somewhat self-imposed, the hiatus away from the Internet has reminded him that the world was not just bits and bytes with light and dark on the screen; he wanted to swing a hammer and not be tied to a keyboard.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8357713-10938101698235441?l=notes.peterstinson.com'/></div>Peter A. Stinsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04609822925630529135noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8357713.post-78957448730941756782008-12-06T10:52:00.000-05:002008-12-06T10:53:16.369-05:00The water, still and silent, reflects the winter sky; boats rest quietly at anchor.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8357713-7895744873094175678?l=notes.peterstinson.com'/></div>Peter A. Stinsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04609822925630529135noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8357713.post-86910059509319229102008-11-25T23:42:00.000-05:002008-11-25T23:44:01.236-05:00The dark sky was alive with the sparkle of white lights outlining the distant horizon.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8357713-8691005950931922910?l=notes.peterstinson.com'/></div>Peter A. Stinsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04609822925630529135noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8357713.post-12603981468020991212008-11-24T11:31:00.001-05:002008-11-24T11:31:51.695-05:00He felt overcome and powerless when he couldn't find his keys and access passes for work; without them, he was no one.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8357713-1260398146802099121?l=notes.peterstinson.com'/></div>Peter A. Stinsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04609822925630529135noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8357713.post-79885516535559321972008-11-23T20:50:00.000-05:002008-11-23T20:52:12.278-05:00Sunday evening and he felt the world of possibilities laid out in the week at his feet; Friday might find him beaten down, but from Sunday's vantage, hope and optimism formed the horizon.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8357713-7988551653555932197?l=notes.peterstinson.com'/></div>Peter A. Stinsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04609822925630529135noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8357713.post-69221772471458838752008-11-12T11:30:00.000-05:002008-11-12T11:31:40.363-05:00When he didn't try to <b>think</b>, he found that life ran more than smooth, a ribbon stretching into the unseen distance.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8357713-6922177247145883875?l=notes.peterstinson.com'/></div>Peter A. Stinsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04609822925630529135noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8357713.post-38768945642724013252008-10-23T00:14:00.001-04:002008-10-23T00:14:45.904-04:00He felt the rush of a fruitful day.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8357713-3876894564272401325?l=notes.peterstinson.com'/></div>Peter A. Stinsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04609822925630529135noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8357713.post-15378223792996588062008-10-22T10:37:00.000-04:002008-10-22T10:38:23.619-04:00In a world of quiet desperation, each of us goes through life a stranger to family and neighbors, a passage of time unmarked by celebration.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8357713-1537822379299658806?l=notes.peterstinson.com'/></div>Peter A. Stinsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04609822925630529135noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8357713.post-49057884577481915492008-10-21T18:13:00.000-04:002008-10-21T18:15:30.990-04:00He felt as if would live forever, decades like months, life spinning toward him.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8357713-4905788457748191549?l=notes.peterstinson.com'/></div>Peter A. Stinsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04609822925630529135noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8357713.post-3399241307286334152008-10-13T01:51:00.000-04:002008-10-13T01:52:27.549-04:00He found himself staying up later and later, his body aching and requesting slumber under the night sky.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8357713-339924130728633415?l=notes.peterstinson.com'/></div>Peter A. Stinsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04609822925630529135noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8357713.post-32401452072488399892008-10-11T00:01:00.001-04:002008-10-11T00:01:40.777-04:00He knew the hours of darkness would lull him to a sense of security and peace.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8357713-3240145207248839989?l=notes.peterstinson.com'/></div>Peter A. Stinsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04609822925630529135noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8357713.post-10592143349637234802008-10-02T12:28:00.000-04:002008-10-02T12:29:35.361-04:00Home was comfortable, a welcome place or respite in the midst of turmoil and winds.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8357713-1059214334963723480?l=notes.peterstinson.com'/></div>Peter A. Stinsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04609822925630529135noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8357713.post-31058036747460527652008-10-01T17:04:00.000-04:002008-10-01T17:06:03.788-04:00He seemed to thrive and yet he felt empty inside, a sense of purpose lost like a leaf on the breeze, browned and brittled and blow along the alley, unseen and unnoticed in the grander schema.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8357713-3105803674746052765?l=notes.peterstinson.com'/></div>Peter A. Stinsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04609822925630529135noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8357713.post-24321616314083750702008-09-28T21:54:00.000-04:002008-09-28T21:55:17.895-04:00The evening no longer held the same appeal as it did two or three decades before; he felt the night in his legs earlier and earlier with each passing year.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8357713-2432161631408375070?l=notes.peterstinson.com'/></div>Peter A. Stinsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04609822925630529135noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8357713.post-61524387812807137572008-09-26T07:12:00.000-04:002008-09-26T07:13:51.900-04:00He slept with the window open, autumn rain providing the music for slumber.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8357713-6152438781280713757?l=notes.peterstinson.com'/></div>Peter A. Stinsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04609822925630529135noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8357713.post-4809865364620405642008-09-25T00:23:00.000-04:002008-09-25T00:24:14.870-04:00The night sounds drifted through the open window, and he realized that autumn was upon him, a cool, cricket-filled darkness encompassing all beyond the glass.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8357713-480986536462040564?l=notes.peterstinson.com'/></div>Peter A. Stinsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04609822925630529135noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8357713.post-64197134416493515372008-09-24T06:26:00.000-04:002008-09-24T06:27:45.951-04:00He was pretty certain that things were always more complicated than they appeared from a distance.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8357713-6419713441649351537?l=notes.peterstinson.com'/></div>Peter A. Stinsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04609822925630529135noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8357713.post-6861841398065921652008-09-20T22:22:00.000-04:002008-09-20T22:23:33.487-04:00He would drift back, his eyes closed, to moments not forgotten, a yearning welling like a moving storm, wind tight against him.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8357713-686184139806592165?l=notes.peterstinson.com'/></div>Peter A. Stinsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04609822925630529135noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8357713.post-86272021865922012202008-09-02T10:27:00.000-04:002008-09-02T10:41:52.440-04:00He watched the water shimmer in the morning light and felt the soft touch of life upon his cheek.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8357713-8627202186592201220?l=notes.peterstinson.com'/></div>Peter A. Stinsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04609822925630529135noreply@blogger.com0