The first thing you need to know about trick-or-treating in Scotland is it’s not called trick-or-treating, it’s called guising. And you don’t get candy for free just by waving your bags out, you have to sing a tune or recite… Read More ›
travel
Auf dem Kies
Slinking about the town we stick to the edges like rats, we climb the old stone walls sideways. The old stone walls that bulge beneath the fachwerk, that flank the village to the north and south. The village that has… Read More ›
A film of light
The candle starts off bright but soon goes dim. And that’s OK because the light from outside comes on as the candle’s gone down. The two match each other’s dimness. I sit in the dark with my blanket and the… Read More ›
Let go into the mystery
The dark pockets of mom’s old house were something to see. It could be depressing too, how the leaning walls closed in on you. But for a Sunday morning in late August with the rain coming down I was glad… Read More ›
Did you get your disconnection notice?
Funny how it often feels good to disconnect, but then we long to feel connected again. And maybe that’s the combination I’ve found this week reconnecting with my mom and our home here in Germany. Lily went away for a… Read More ›
An apple no worm had found
We took the 14 toward Backnang, past the place I bought a used hatchback one time with Eberhard, Sulzbach an der Merr. And I could still remember the turnoff where Dawn and I took the car for a test drive… Read More ›
Ich genieße es!
In the morning I sat with Eberhard’s cat under the covered patio out back as the trash collectors wound their way up the small roads to the village. He’d built a series of ladders for the cat to climb from… Read More ›
Song for leavin’
It is remarkable to think, the braids of fate that led me here. Up these Roman steps, past prehistoric geckos padding stone. A life of constellations but so often we wander through the dark and can’t connect the dots. Perhaps… Read More ›
New forms of release
The warm crackle of the power lines above the cornfields, up the himmelsleiter to the vineyards. Unscrewing a tight grape from its cluster, spitting the seeds out on the grass. Bathing myself in this new form of decadence sans alcohol,… Read More ›
Cloud Atlas passage
Mom and I walked the trails by the häckselplatz and went to Berne’s at the top of the hill for an alkoholfrei Hefe. I said this is sublime, and then realized with horror the beer was not alkoholfrei (!) though… Read More ›
Bill Pearse 