Dubuque 2015

Mississippi River at Dubuque

Looking downstream. Illinois left, Iowa right. »Buy This Photo!«

I was so busy (apparently) on our recent trip to eastern Iowa that I never had a chance to post anything while we were there. No biggie, it was mostly family—eat, visit, and nap, you know?—and live in clean rooms with real closets and such. I only went crazy a couple of times. Oh yeah, my brother died, and it was humid, with a wild storm one morning when the city blew sirens.

But one afternoon two sisters and a sister-in-law went walking along the Mississippi, and of course I came, too. The river defines Dubuque for me. If I lived there, I’d be a river rat—exploring by boat and on foot, dragging odd artifacts back to the house. Fish, snakes, turtles, and birds. White pelicans, herons, and eagles, no less. Giant trees! Also quicksand, swatting bugs, and getting lost. Being swept away to hell or worse, Missouri, when I hit a snag and lost a prop.

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John Hamilton Farr lives at 7,000 feet in Ranchos de Taos, New Mexico, U.S.A. As New York Times best-selling author James C. Moore tells it, John is “a man attuned to the world who sees it differently than you and I and writes about it with a language and a vision of life that is impossible to ignore.” This JHFARR.COM site is the master writing archive. To email John, please see CONTACT INFO on About page. For a complete list of all John’s writing, photography, NFTs, and social media links, please visit JHFARR.ART  

  • Pam in Ranchos July 4, 2015, 6:44 AM

    My condolences about your brother. Even when you expect it, it still sucks.

    • JHF July 4, 2015, 7:31 AM

      He wasn’t without friends, even living the way he did. Some of them are probably camped out in what’s left of his house. The main thing for me is the end of an era and a clear road ahead.

  • judyinboston July 4, 2015, 8:35 AM

    Channeling your inner Huck Finn. Yes, the eagles are all over-so thrilling to see them soar. Have you ever been to Arthur, Nebraska in the sandhills? One of the most isolated areas I’ve ever been. When I used to mention to my granddaughter that a place was “in the middle of nowhere,” she would say, “any place is somewhere.” What was the name of the Kansas River? Some of us might have recognized it. You did the best you could for your brother, and should bring you some peace.

  • Mike Walsh July 4, 2015, 12:17 PM

    Sorry to hear about your brother.

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