1Jun 16, 2023
At some moment toward the end of every sweet vacation–this time while cool, briny waters lick at my feet and the sun warms my bare shoulders; while I meander along and consider that the ocean looks both a clear, clean green in the rise of the waves and like quicksilver on the surface—I begin to […]
2Nov 18, 2022
From the sixteenth floor of The Carolinian, Kevin and I watch the sunrise. We sit on the balcony, sipping steamy coffee, gasping over the vastness of the sea, stunned by the silvery surface of the water reflecting the sky, threaded suddenly with amber and gold. The perspective up here on the balcony reminds us of […]
3Aug 26, 2022
As we step onto the path, past the gravel and asphalt and through an arbor of trees to the place where the air grows light and cool, I realize two things: I am not wearing the right shoes for this hike, and consequently, I need a walking stick. Roots ripple across the path, rising up […]
4Oct 26, 2018
In the last gasp of day, Kevin and I wind our way along unknown streets, all squeaky springs and clacking chains. These bicycles are the picture-postcard kind, sherbet-colored, lemon and mint, with earthy baskets bobbing at the front. I imagine mine brimming with trailing flowers like they do in greeting card photographs, except that would […]
5Jul 13, 2018
In the beginning, nothing. I stand at the edge of a wide, blank canvas. From the street, as the first light cracks open the sky, I only see a broad, smooth, sandy plain, and beyond this, a dazzling sheet of silver glass. For a number of days, I disconnect everything and step away, wiping it […]
6Jul 21, 2017
Even as we leave the house the rain falls silently, light and soft, dotting our arms. We stare at the sky, the wild chaos of cloud, the battle between light and dark. After a cleansing, everything looks raw and startling, new. The shore looks flat, smoothed and then embroidered with gemstones, bordered with old lace. […]
7Apr 14, 2017
We wind our way along Pier 60 just as the sun dips, melting gold right into the ocean. I stand a moment and just breathe, watching the way the waves rise, wind-shaped right out of the glass sea. The pier is a flurry of activity as the city gears up for a festival on the […]
8Oct 21, 2016
Travel weary and temporarily keyless, we knock, feeling as dusty as the door, as parched as the plants. I run my thumb along the delicate thinning edge of a swooping leaf, crisp and browned, like old parchment. On the door, the vinyl letters have broken in places and begun to curl away, even as they still […]
9Oct 3, 2014
This week, a departure for Kevin and me, a Sabbath rest: Tucked away, pulled back from the busy road and held–but lightly–by the trees, we hide beneath the fog. Sound is magnified here, somehow, or perhaps it is that other noise removed leaves room for hearing birdsong, the cheeky chatter of squirrels, the deep-throated gurgle […]
10Jul 18, 2014
Afternoon, and the beach becomes another elegant art, a mosaic of striking contrasts. I love the seascape for the way she changes, for the intensity of her perspectives. Across the water I see rain, a blue black bruise on the horizon blurring the line God made between the deep sea and the boundless sky. I […]