Reflections on Writing, Traveling, and Food
Rarely do I have an opportunity for purposeless activity. If I’m running, I’m training. If I’m driving, I’m going to work, grocery shopping, or to some sort of appointment. If I’m reading, I’m studying. If I’m at the computer, I’m working or writing. Even my free time is filled with purpose. Our lives have become
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
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