To Actually Be Present

A friend and I were talking over lunch last week about life and health, work and family. “Best to make the most of it,” I said. “You could get hit by a bus tomorrow,” she added with a smirk. We do smirk when we say that, don’t we? As it leaves our lips, it seems […]

Luddite, Lemming or Just Listening to a Different iPod Playlist?

On my dining room table sits a brand new iPhone, still in its packaging.  “You have to hand it to Apple,” I said when it arrived. “They sure do know design.” The box, the compartments for accessories, the origami-folded envelope with instructions, the sleek iPhone — so distinctly Applesque. But so far, that’s the only […]

Oh Deer! How Time Flies!

There is so much I have been meaning to write to you about… Like the day I went to collect pictures of shore birds for you. They were wading out across the marsh at low tide. But then I got stuck in the mud and laughed so hard they all flew away. And then there […]

Wanna Play?

Do you remember playing? Recess and running around: Red Light, Green Light and Mother May I, and Red Rover Red Rover? I don’t know what I’m playing in the picture above…it sort of looks like a yoga pose to me. But I assure you, when I was that age? I didn’t have to take a […]

Such is the reading of Walden

The copyright date on my hardcover copy of Henry David Thoerau’s Walden is 1950. I am sure it was my father’s — his handwriting so distinct, I can recognize it even in the precise, straight underlines of text he chose to highlight. We find common ground in these, though separated now by half a century and […]

Hunkering down with a Hurricane and Henry

“Should I stay or should I go now? If I go there will be trouble If I stay it will be double.” — The Clash “I don’t think I’ve ever been this afraid,” I emailed a friend at 6:00 on Sunday morning. I’d been cowering on the couch listening to Irene pummel my house with […]


(On July 4, 1845, Henry David Thoreau moved into his cabin on the shore of Walden Pond in Concord, Massachusetts. One hundred and sixty-six years later, we embarked on a day trip.) Walden Pond was lovely, though a meditative pilgrimage to Thoreau’s place of inspiration better suited for the solitude of colder months and not […]