Springtime is one of the most beautiful times where we live. It’s a bath of sensory delights, especially in early morning. The distant woodpecker rattle, the sweet birdsong as it builds. Some crows and repetitive sounds all layered together. I… Read More ›
There is more life than I can use, so I squander it on fruitless things like video games or bad books or going to bed early. The funny way life inches forward mostly unseen. The spring blooms that would bring… Read More ›
Patches of snow in the foothills on a bleak morning in March. It is your first week sober. You’ve been a daily drinker for 20 years now and this is the longest you’ve gone since you can remember. It is… Read More ›
That janky toilet seat always leaned left, the toilet paper holder too. In the early morning the body signaled what it would feel like later in life. Early morning or late night it was hard to tell which was which,… Read More ›
31 Jan 25 I did not feel it pressing down on me, or lifting me from my bed in the middle of the night, that mad desire to capture the moment of being here. It happened in the past, for… Read More ›
It is hard to imagine things ever being better than this: me in pajamas and slippers with no socks, the days inching out of darkness and peach colored, both my parents still alive and our kids happy, my wife still… Read More ›
We meet mom’s friend Helga for dinner at the Croatian guy Tony’s new restaurant and sit inside at the best table (“without shadows,” Tony says). It’s called Adriatic cuisine, which I take to mean Mediterranean, though my geography and culinary… Read More ›
When you say goodbye to someone you love it’s a knife’s edge between the past and present. They are both with you and not. It can feel like the amputee’s phantom limb or Schrödinger’s cat, the seam between seasons when… Read More ›
Dawn’s mom Beth is moving out of her house and downsizing to a senior living community. She’s lived in this house since 1982, so it’s a big deal. If memories are like fallen leaves on the ground then the soil… Read More ›
The bright red Mickey Mouse socks my kids gave me before the pandemic were now going pink and faded with holes opening at the heels. These socks, like so many things in my life, held small resonance. They meant something… Read More ›
Bill Pearse 