When the noise is too much.

I want to work a little to swim out past the pea-soup fog to get clear. I want to look over my shoulder and see definitively the smog left. behind. I want to head upstream past the sad remains of yesterday’s convenience of accidental casualties of tomorrow’s nightmare. Enough. There are still springs cold as…

If You Caught a Moment and Put it in a Jar

It should have been a disaster.  We’d driven so far, spent so much money on this mini-vacation, the list of fun activities (hiking, lighthouses, waterfalls) all outdoors.  But it was so, so wet.  Rain — the fat kind, the drip-down-your-collar kind — and fog — a thick wooly blanket that hid everything — conspired against…