Bill Pearse

Recent Posts

That last Saturday this fall

By Bill Pearse on December 20, 2025 • ( 6 )

There’s just an inch of pink in the sky in a sea of clouds. The clouds are a Rothko in shades of gray, swollen at the bottom. But the clouds move fast and offer more strands of pink below, a… Read More ›
Wintry mix

By Bill Pearse on December 19, 2025 • ( 12 )

I should know better than to use these cheap haircut salons even if it’s just for a neck trim or light cosmetic work. Today she misunderstood me and shaved half an inch above my ear in a clean line around… Read More ›
All the young dudes

By Bill Pearse on December 18, 2025 • ( 6 )

I liked making stews this time of year. Last year it was the seafood gumbo and Guyanese pepperpot, this year a pork shoulder braised with lemon, green olives and tomatoes. But I’m starting to sense the stews are more appreciated… Read More ›
Rat torture scene reveal

By Bill Pearse on December 17, 2025 • ( 17 )

By the time we got to winter it already felt like spring in the Pacific Northwest. A few things bloomed and the Christmas bugs returned, those gray, floppy, mosquito-like creatures that come every January. I don’t mind the bugs but… Read More ›
Sunday sauce

By Bill Pearse on December 14, 2025 • ( 11 )

Any real Italian would add that leftover liquid from the jarred anchovies to the pasta sauce I thought, though the smell was pungent and the contents unknown. Probably olive oil and whatever salty oils had sloughed off the fish. So… Read More ›
Spirit of the rising sun

By Bill Pearse on December 11, 2025 • ( 10 )

Just the radio in the corner and the heater blowing. The year winds down. We had so much rain this week they compared it to the floods of 1990 but this week was worse. I stayed in all day, no… Read More ›
Salthill Promenade, 2015

By Bill Pearse on December 8, 2025 • ( 4 )

At times the rain could be maddening, the repetition. And it got so dark you had to watch your mood or you could slip under. I thought back to our time in Salthill, outside of Galway, when our family came… Read More ›
Sunday sermon

By Bill Pearse on December 7, 2025 • ( 5 )

No color left to speak of in the woods. It’s ash gray, bone colored, drab greens and browns. The feel of cold wind rushing through a bare forest. Keeping an eye on the creaking trees (they sound like zippers). How… Read More ›
Tending and mending

By Bill Pearse on December 6, 2025 • ( 10 )

You couldn’t see the moon because of the clouds but with it almost full it made the night sky milky white. More wind had raked down branches throughout the yard, pine needles too. My new haz mat suit was waiting… Read More ›