I write personal essay. I write to find out how I feel about something, an aspiration I learned from the poet May Sarton. I sometimes picture myself as a grizzled prospector leading a forlorn, burdened donkey into the trackless waste of basin and range country, looking for riches that might be only a few bright flecks in a stream.

These essays explore my world, from the hiking trails of California to the Java Sea and the Silk Road, from school days to retirement, from my backyard to my bookshelves. I invite you to read them—with this caveat from the Persian poet Hafiz: