Writer | Journalist | Storyteller
Eventually, all things merge into one, and a river runs through it. The river was cut by the world’s great flood and runs over rocks from the basement of time. On some of the rocks are timeless raindrops. Under the rocks are the words, and some of the words are theirs. I am haunted by waters.
— Norman Maclean
“Thou hast made us for thyself, O Lord, and our heart is restless until it finds its rest in thee.”St. Augustine As a deeply committed connoisseur of the Irish exit, David Malcolm McCarty performed his final disappearing act on October 19, 2022, as he left us to be with his Lord and Savior. If he knew of his imminent departure, he told no one. As far as everyone knew, the divine banquet had been...
by David Todd McCarty | Thursday, October 15, 2015
My wife Jane thinks it’s silly to talk about having a fire in the fireplace.
“Where else would you light a fire? The sink?” she’ll say.
I guess she has a point, but it sounds strange to simply say, “I think I’ll start a fire” then walk into the other room.
I grew up with a fireplace and I have one today. It’s glorious.
Nathaniel Rateliff and the Night Sweats. It was the second time I’d heard the song, but the first time I didn’t look up who it was. I was on my way to get a haircut in my rental car, so I was listening to the old fashioned radio instead of satellite. It was a local alt rock station, which to some is still just corporate rock, but I’m almost fifty years old, so it’s often all new to me. At first...
Writer | Journalist | Storyteller
