Blog

Adversity

Steve is all I remember of his name although I doubt we were permitted to refer to him in such an informal manner. He was slim, wore heavy, horn-rimmed glasses, and had funny, fuzzy hair of which, no one ever considered making fun of. He was a powerhouse of knowledge and energy, and the entire

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The Tao of Sailing

Today, I’m sailing from land, toes curling in the sand, beneath the shade of my beach umbrella while I watch a sailboat far away at sea. It’s been awhile since I last set foot on deck, but the experience of sailing somehow remains, things you don’t forget like the burble and splash of water against

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Her Affliction

I see them often when I run, three of them, a small family of two dogs and their mistress, walking in the sunshine. Today, they move slowly, hampered by the wagon the woman tows and the fact that the larger of the dogs is missing a front leg. They amble along the path by the

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The High Dive

I think I was around twelve when I decided that doing a backflip off the high dive would conquer my fear of leaping from the platform. Such a tactic was new for me as I am not impetuous and tend to shirk confrontation, but off the edge I leapt. It was hours before the red

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The Nest

Unidentified flying objects that feel suspiciously furry brush against my face as our group treks through dense foliage on our way to the beach guided only by the moon. Advised to wear long sleeves and pants, despite the heat of a June evening in South Florida, I’m glad we obeyed. When we finally reach our

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What to Do in Oia

There are many shops lining the streets of Oia. The trick is to get there before the tourists, as the sun is climbing but hasn’t yet reached its peak. It is peaceful now with only a small handful of wanderers. Merchants open their doors according to no particular schedule. Some are open while others are

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Sigh in Love

Every Wednesday morning they arrive separately, he with a dignified Airedale Terrier, she with a mutt of undetermined lineage. Her hair is silvery, his hands gnarled and twisted. They sit close together among the sea oats, shoulders touching while the dogs frisk about. On chilly days like today, they’ll bring coffee, huddling against the wind,

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One day, in Savoca . . .

As our van winds along roads flanked by dry fields—it is the dry season in Sicily—and through tunnels too numerous to count, I find both foreign and familiar things to observe. The navy-blue Mediterranean stretches far to one side of our vehicle while hilly fields of dried golden grasses or crops, bolstered by stone, step

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