River Stories

There were snakes in that river. That’s why we were never to go there alone. I never saw a snake, but I knew they were there. Our mothers said so. We had just moved to our new town in June. We would have moved earlier but Mom said we had to wait for the end … Continue reading River Stories

Southern Writer from New England

For some time now I’ve been confused over my obsession with southern writers. I get all conflicted trying to figure out if I want to be a New Englander writing in the South, or a Southerner writing about New England. Sometimes I can’t figure out if my story is about characters from my New England … Continue reading Southern Writer from New England

Zippers on Palta – or never pass up an experience just because you don’t know what it is

Living with an artist often means hearing comments that may not make sense to a “normal” person. When we first moved to Peru, it surprised me that no one seemed to know what an aguacate was. Everywhere else we had been in the Spanish speaking world, the mighty avocado was called “aguacate.” After 3 months … Continue reading Zippers on Palta – or never pass up an experience just because you don’t know what it is

My Island Life

A Hundred Years Ago - or so it seems, although by the date on the front page, I see that it was actually 27 years past - I wrote this article about what was then my life. Sometimes I think I really miss that life. Well, maybe not that life, but certain parts of it. … Continue reading My Island Life

My Town

This photo article was published a while back. It was a fun research project walking around my neighborhood taking photos of amazing old houses. ABOVE - THE CUPOLA. The iconic image of the district of Magdalena del Mar will soon disappear. Well perhaps not totally disappear, but certainly from my vantage point a few blocks away and … Continue reading My Town

What I have to say about that …

My World This Morning

There’s something particularly jarring about opening your computer in the morning and seeing a screen displaying what appears to be a man bound and tied with rope being thrown into a river while an angry crowd looks on. It’s made more jarring by the juxtaposition of this image with an ad for an “essential” nonstick pan.

It turns out that the man is actually a colonial slave trader statue which has been torn down in the UK. The fact that the event occurred in another country makes it feel even more jarring. The protests against police brutality are worldwide. I hear “this time things must change,” and try to be hopeful. We’ve heard these phrases too many times before.

Is the Covid-19 pandemic any less of a threat now that it was when the world closed down three months ago? The death toll worldwide has passed 400,000. Businesses are opening up and people are excited to get “back to their lives.” The threat feels greater than before, as people pretend that it is gone, going out to dinner, to the gym, to crowded protests. I fear that the number of asymptomatic people out there thinking they’re safe has increased dramatically while all of this goes on. They’re not feeling sick. And they don’t believe that they can pass the virus to other people.