I drove into town to deposit a check around 8, Sunday morning, light fog and no one around.
pacific northwest
Days, leaves, light
How the days unfurled unexpected and just hung there in the light.
The virus diaries
In three days Dawn and the kids had eaten three quarts of ice cream and most of the saltines.
Of fear and fascination
It is way too early in this thing for me to be getting irritable with my kids while we’re stuck at home.
The new normal
It was winter’s last gasp with wet snow in the lowlands and more expected in the mountain passes.
Jaw Rest
I looked up images expecting to see something from Alien.
You never give me your money
Lily, born today and growing up in that little house in West Seattle behind the Sub Shop #9 and the corner bar we never once visited, Chuck and Sally’s.
The new normal
The seam between winter and spring.
Song for March invocation
The awareness of how different it is here than in my neighborhood in the suburbs.
This life is a book I don’t want to finish
It’s a game where there is no winning, only the joy in the odd and unexplained.
Bill Pearse 