Tag Archives: pacific northwest

One commitment (for August)

In the morning before the sun is up, when the cloud deck makes the light go soft and pale, the grass is the color of straw dried-out and sharp, golden red. The lawn sprinklers wake spitting and cussing, and the … Continue reading

Posted in poetry, writing | Tagged , , , , , , | 14 Comments

The day the rain stopped

The last rain fell on July 10. They were saying that was it, it would be a long time before it came back. When the rain ends in Seattle it’s like time stops—and when it returns it’s like an old … Continue reading

Posted in Memoir, parenting | Tagged , , , , , , , , | 21 Comments

Decorative chains, lucky charms, symbols in garbage pails

In the morning it looked like it had rained over night, and the mountains were socked in with clouds. I took a last walk to the river but there wasn’t much to see, and the dog wasn’t out. The dog … Continue reading

Posted in Memoir, parenting, travel, writing | Tagged , , , , , , , | 25 Comments

Is, does, can, could: resolutions, one July

It’s gotten so that I can’t leave the windows open at night or it will get too cold. This morning it was 60 in the house and Dawn was in her sweater, cranky, like it was my fault. She’s at … Continue reading

Posted in death, Memoir, parenting, writing | Tagged , , , , , , , , | 23 Comments

‘Undead’

On the first day of summer I took my morning walk beneath a marine layer of clouds. The cool onshore flow was back, making the trees swish. The blackberry vines were starting to bud out with their green, knobby fists … Continue reading

Posted in Memoir, writing | Tagged , , , , , , , , | 19 Comments

The long wind down

On the last day of spring I walked to the lake in the morning, just past 5. It was light like it had been that way all day. I’d been up since 4, with the sounds of birdsong and fans … Continue reading

Posted in Memoir, writing | Tagged , , , , , , , , | 19 Comments

‘Time after time’

My dog is 42, but could still pass for 30. Life in seven year increments, a year at a time. Cork screwing the side of Cougar Mountain, past the Klondike marsh through the damp forest thinking about Orin Smith, former … Continue reading

Posted in Memoir, parenting, writing | Tagged , , , , , , , , | 22 Comments