Yesterday, as I was walking through my garden admiring the play of early light on leaves and flowers, I looked up at the old trellis and found two eyes staring at me.
Guns
Where are the fathers?
As I Am Now So Will You Be
Like Ernest Hemingway’s mother, gifted women are all around us in Nantucket.
Bulls and Flamenco
This shocks us, as we are shocked by Flamenco and the bullring. At least since the enlightenment, we of the New World have believed in our perfectibility, if not in our perfection, in our concurrent right to protection and ease. The essential tragedy of life is not for us; we will circumvent it, somehow, as when I was a small child I believed death would have been “cured” by the time I was old.