I have been feeling a need to return to the original spirit of Beachcombing For The Landlocked, for me itself the most important phrase I have written. It means simply to pay attention to one’s day and to note any moment that glints, catches the eye, as might certain shells, pebbles, pieces of sea glass, on a beach. There is fun in pocketing them in a concise and unadorned but interesting way, of course, but literary considerations need not be foremost. And, for me, that’s about the extent of my philosophy. For a few good years I was among the haiku writers, micropoets and artists on Twitter; I got swept up into the world of haiku theory and history; my ku were published here and there in well known journals; and once I even accidentally won a prestigious haiku award. But those days are gone now. Twitter has become an absolute cesspit; for various reason I am estranged from my former network of haiku friends; and for the last three years I have hardly written because I didn’t want everything to be about cancer. But now… Now that my life remaining is to be measured in months rather than years, I need to pay attention again, while I can, to the small and ordinary moments that catch my eye. And so I hope to keep them here: without context, without explanation for the most part, and without literary pretensions. Almost no one reads here anyway so it’s just a dog-eared open notebook. I don’t know what will turn up as we move into September: notes, fragments, phrases, haiku and the haiku-adjacent. It might be a terrible mess, but no more a mess than is already here.