Jason S. Harry

Monday, December 7 th , 2015 was a day that shall remain a busy memory in my professional life as an over-the-road truck driver. I completed a multi-stop trip in the state of Connecticut. After that journey was finished, I grabbed a fresh box of furniture and set off in the darkness for the small town of Morrisville, Vermont, which resides in the northern middle of the state. As I neared my destination I noticed Morrisville-Stowe State Airport was sliding by outside my passenger window. I looked over, twisting my neck all around, trying to get a glimpse of just one airplane. I’m also a pilot and that’s what we do- it does not matter what kind of airplane we see, any kind of wing reminds us of our happy place and the mere sight of one is akin to aviator porn. (I think I did manage to see one half of a Cessna 172 fast asleep in the tie-down area of the airpark.) It was after ten at night when I pulled into the parking lot of the Big Lots store I would be delivering to in the...

I spent a night in Delaware last week at my favorite campground. Behind it sits a great little spot of water named “Records Pond.” I was down at the water’s edge looking at the morning (pictures can be found on my Facebook page ) and I had a flashback from youth on the way back to my RV. During the short walk two school buses showed up to take away their victims. The first bus showed up halfway back, the other as I was in the grass separating the campground and Records Pond. When the second one arrived, I was kneeling down because I was real curious about the empty spaces between the wispy seed heads of a dandelion covered in frost. I saw the bus in the background and quickly spun some knobs on my camera and shot the above photo. Then the memories came rushing back. When I was a kid, all I wanted to do was finish school and set about doing what big people do, without the regiment of a bus coming for me every day during the school year. I wasn’t sure what exactly grown...

I walked into a Family Dollar Store this afternoon, intending on replenishing my supply of body wash. Lost in the aisles, I found myself alone by a shelf where they keep pens. It instantaneously caused me to become self-aware of something someone recently told me about writing: “Always write in pencil on paper, the way it has always been done. A machine only gets in the way.” I was never against the idea- the first serious thing I ever wrote was written on a paper pad in the backyard and became an instant hit among the close family members I showed it to. Over time, I did stray to my laptop. It seemed easier, the way professionals might do it even though it’s doubtful I will be become skilled the way they are. A true writer finds his or her own way of doing things. (Leave them alone at all times if you happen to stumble across one. I’ve heard they can become dangerous if they turn against you.) As I stood in the aisle that didn’t contain soap, I wondered if they h...

I have no religion that belongs to me or me to it. For many years, however, I have studied the Tao Te Ching and will likely do so for the remainder of my earthly existence. The Tao was written long before the Bible. I often think humanity should have embraced the Tao and stopped there, but I understand that a good many people needed more. Surely someone could write something better that did not involve such simplicity. (Man loves to complicate the world.) Many religious texts followed as did war because some folks see their god as all-knowing, better than any other god and will fight ferociously to make you believe it. I am fond of the Tao because there are no rules. Taoism is not a religion. It’s not suggested that I idolize one god for I am god and so are you. So is every flower in every garden or the faintest star that causes you wonder in the night. By seeing everyone as god, I live to serve all people instead of one. By observing nature as god I appreciate and v...