From the category archives:

essays in miniature

destination unknown

August 16, 2009

My new possible guest is nervous. He’s asked for pictures of the apartment inside and out, and my address so he can Google it and tour the neighborhood —and late last night he emailed that today he would like to have a conversation. His angst brings back memories of a few travel adventures of my […]

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playing hide and seek with the present moment

August 14, 2009

I’ve always loved basking in sunshine behind closed eyelids:   especially in bed first thing in the morning, when I haven’t yet opened my eyes to the day. Today, cloud cover sometimes half-hides the light.  That which escapes the clouds must pass through leaves moving in the occasional breeze. Finally, it must run the gauntlet of […]

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first rain

August 12, 2009

A few minutes ago I was sitting on my friend’s porch, feeling my skin open to the blessing of the first rain in months and months.  It felt as if joy itself was pouring down from the sky. I feel forgiven of something dry and dusty.

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