Since I first moved to Santa Fe twenty-five years ago, I’ve longed to gain an authentic and appropriate understanding of the people among whom we live and who were here long before us, and will remain.
Resisting the Annunciation
As we head, again, into the season of attacks on reproductive rights… I wonder how many of them stem, unconsciously, from the familiar version of the Annunciation.
Renewed
Perhaps even the natural cycles we have abused to such a great degree have an innate strength and will to survive not only human depredations but the disorders of our disordered climate.
As I Am Now So Will You Be
Like Ernest Hemingway’s mother, gifted women are all around us in Nantucket.
Growing Pains
Anne Morrow Lindbergh’s shells are long gone but the lessons she draws from them are as fresh as the sunrise this morning.
Aboard the Arabella: Last Day, August 17
I find waves of sentiment washing across my mood; this experience, with this boat and this crew, won’t be repeated. And it is precious.
Aboard the Arabella: Tied up to a Buoy off Martha’s Vineyard, August 16
All our plans changed, again, when a very stiff wind made it impractical to motor to Nantucket.
Aboard the Arabella: Setting Sail, August 15
Five or six hours of rolling on the Arabella laid several passengers low, knocked out by nausea and Dramamine on the boat’s benches, covered with blankets, solicitous husbands bringing wet washrags to put across their foreheads.
Aboard the Arabella: Newport Harbor, August 15
Young and curly-headed, Captain Mike seems to have some of the fishy nature (so-called) of the captains who manned the whaling ships out of Nantucket in the last century.
Every Three Seconds
I don’t know if any woman is allowed to have two best friends—there may be a rule prohibiting it written in the stars—but I will boldly claim my two.