Category Archives: Uncategorized

Just this: A bowl of Anahola Granola withplenty of vanilla yogurt atop it,sprinkled with fresh blueberries. My jug of tea for drinkingand a soft cushion for sittingon this deck as the glory of an at-last sunny morning dawnsand a ruler-straight … Continue reading →

(at The Sea Ranch, Sonoma coast) On the first day of fall on the Sonomacoast we find ourselves foggy, whichis not unusual for our state of mind.But this fog obliterates the horizon, though the sun does make a cameoappearance as … Continue reading →

(for Pamela and Dave withthanks for a happy afternoonin Pt. Arena, California) ••• Finally, the blueafter days of gray,but the coast leansthat way at times, gulls and buoystogether bobbingin lacy fog, or stuckin the thick blanket of it. But we … Continue reading →

Even in my looming absenceI am here, in your reaching.I am horizon; you will never hold me. I will always hold you. —Steve Garnaas-Holmes, from “Out of Reach” ••• I hear you, looming absence,not yet here but nearby, so close … Continue reading →

While I’m away, Mary and Louise have come to staywith Poki and Diego. Louise, the new furry familymember, bounced into Mary’slife as she traveled in Mexico, which meant that Louise,like many immigrants, understoodmore Spanish than English. Lulu, ven aqui! Mary … Continue reading →

This is where they birthed their pups.This is where they swam with themin the shallows, getting their babiesused to being the half-land, half-oceancreatures they are. This is where they spent hours atopthe detritus of long-gone sealife,lolling around on shell bitsand … Continue reading →

(The Sea Ranch, Sonoma coast) Mid-September, and the purple irisare long gone, as is the spring green,so showy when we were last here,but what’s flaunting its flowingmanes like so many show poniesalong the coast highway isthe Pampas grass— not to … Continue reading →

“Anything I’d have to say has been said,”she told me over lunch. “What’s the point?Who cares?” I feel the tiny writer sigh deep insidemy spleen, the one who grips the pen,try to keep the are-you-kidding-me disbelief from splashing across my … Continue reading →

Right in front of the birdbathin the front yard of my mother’s house,the old concrete bowl still firmly attached to its pedestal with anow-detached little bird that restson its side. I refill the birdbath, as my father did, as my … Continue reading →

(for Terri Wolf in Port Ludlow, Washington) In the midst of our online chat,Terri abruptly said, “A bird justslammed into the glass”—the largepicture window over her deskout of which she beholds statelypines marching downhill tothe deep blue of the Hood … Continue reading →