In caves near Lascaux, France, perhaps 20,000 years ago, the occupants scratched on its  walls drawings of the bison they saw outside. Obviously, the bison were important enough to the  cave’s occupants to record them; they may have been the world’s first reporters. The drawings  have long attracted great attention.

  

The significant events of history are usually well recorded, but the ordinary, the bison, and  how they were portrayed give the reader or viewer a granular sense of human affairs over time.  Here I continue a chronicle of my journey, stumbles and all, through the wondrous mystery  of one life, its amazement, amusement and occasional enlightenment. 

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I do not suffer from the delusion that the words and thoughts herein are timeless; they are  just my wall scratchings.