Small Rains

The first thing I notice is the smell of dirt. Fresh. Earthy. Rich-smelling. Soaked through like coffee grounds by the slow, night rain.  The scent, catching the tail end of a breeze — a camp follower chasing the storm retreating (more…)

Mud Season

The morning was squandered, as such mornings should be, dozing in the drear light and letting my mind wander amidst the browns of the pre-spring wood that picks up just across the road.   Some kind of magnolia, riotous in (more…)

Lá Fhéile Pádraig

March 17: two day’s beyond the ides, a week before the eclipses.  St. Patrick’s (and it’s  Paddy’s — NOT St. Patty’s) day.  While these days, I list more toward older takes and understandings (though here too, not much for the (more…)


The second finest season of the year, and here I sit — hobbled.

Scratchy throat. Sneezing that leads to bloody nose. Eyes itchy: maddening with irritation. Exhausting.  HAY FEVER season! 

A regimen of steroids and antihistamines (with which I tread (more…)

Down from Parnassus

March 1st — it is a date I arbitrarily declare as the commencement of my exercise New Year.  

Both the Julian and the Gregorian calendars name our modern 3rd solar month after Martius (Mars).  The ancient Romans took a (more…)

Corfu or Bust

My voice startles the dogs, who lie scattered across chairs and the sofa (conspicuously NOT on their designated bed lying unused at the end of couch).  I have taken to reading aloud, at least certain titles. Perhaps they think I (more…)

Rarer Still, than Ventilators

For the first time in an epoch, I was laughing.  Laughing and laughing and laughing. Like there could be no end, laughing.  Unplanned, uncorralable, cathartic.  Man it felt good. 

How long since I had even remotely felt like this? …since (more…)

Fear & Loathing in Las Vegas

the Quarantine Readings (complete playlist)

To pass time, to revisit a classic of counter cultural chaos and mayhem, to spend a little distance-time with you, I am setting out to read out loud every chapter from Hunter S. Thompson’s (more…)

the Dawn Woodpecker and Early Rain

Across an expanse of warp and woof, the early grey sits. Going nowhere.  Behind, a darker stretch of sky.  Grudgingly, eyes pry themselves open.  It’s 7:15. 

I can smell rain – ok, not yet raining, but it’s gonna.   Not too (more…)

… in Rona time

I switch from one bench to the adjoining one, following the sun.  After 5pm, mid April, and it’s 42 degrees.  While 42 may be the answer to Life, the Universe and Everything, while Alice may grouse and complain when (more…)