A silvery log of driftwood sits on a sandy white beach. There's a line of green, green seagrass behind it, and a blue blue sky beyond that.

Captain’s log

This morning, back on Beach of My Heart. I smiled at the memory of the driftwood log. Then blinked, and laughed out loud because I realized it was real. Time doubles back on itself in odd and beautiful patterns here. Always so much the same. New joys adding bright threads that somehow match perfectly with […]

An expanse of deeply blue river under deeply blue sky, interrupted only by a couple of tiny rocky islands poking up between the viewer and a thin line of land that's the faraway opposite riverbank.

Get lost, kid

Yesterday I got myself well and truly lost in an area with no cell service. It’s okay. That was more or less the point. I started the morning by exploring around Lake Placid, scouting locations to view the next day’s eclipse. Then I went a little further afield, checking out a couple of villages ten […]

A faded color photo of an older man cooking in a sunny kitchen

Fifteen years

Fifteen years with no Nurn in the world. That’s what we called him. A silly, loving name for a silly, loving man. Dan Kalikow, 3/2/43-2/26/09. But of course it’s not true that there’s no Nurn left. There is so much of him in me – I see him often in my own face – but […]

My father’s footsteps

The other day I walked here in my father’s footsteps, in one of his favorite places. I hadn’t specifically meant to; I was there for my own reasons, because it’s a treasured part of my life, too. I watched the rowing teams slide along the glassy surface, and thought of him. Nurn, our weird and […]

Blossom of snow

This morning’s coffeewalk. Eleven degrees and snow flurries and beautiful. Warmed by thick winter layers, my travel mug of coffee, and memories of my father. Gone fourteen years today. Dan Kalikow, 3/2/43-2/26/09. We called him Nurn, because it was silly and he adored silliness. If you know me even a little, then you know him […]