1. In the boat’s wake:a range of mountains,arching spine of peaks and valleys molded into the pliant sea. The path forward: littered with driftwood. 2. The earth’s anxiety in the liminal spaces: maelstrom of birds, the wind’s long howl, arrhythmic ocean swelling and...
Photo: George Sheldon / Shutterstock.com The pungent odorof horseradish follows youpast butchers, bakers,and florists, past glazed donuts, hard pretzels, and youngMennonites tying cherrystems in knots with tongues. Andy Brown is a freelance writer and editor of Scrawl...
Photo by Segunfodeke/ CC BY-SA 3.0 while on a morning walk in Ummuneochi, a western boy called pointing a finger to the sky and says; “Eagle. This bird’s name is eagle.” I look, but the part of the sky is empty.It is gone, he said. That bird is an eagle, that is the...
Less than 100 yards down the sloughthis swamp’s so thick it’s easy to imagine a world where carsdon’t exist, where a breeze is worth more than gold.The water under your boat, the mess of palmettos lining the shore,the bald cypress blocking sun— everything, all of it,...
Pull your boat up to the shore here nowwith hundreds of pelicans in flight above the island, their nests scatteredin the mangrove bushes all over this place, and you’d never guessit was a ghost of itself five years ago, just a ring of stone with barely enoughgrass to...
Photo: aceshot1 / Shutterstock.com Gardens, more glitter than greenery. South Street sermonof wishes made, coins tossed into the chromium chasm. Hallowed be the absinthe-tinted bottles, bicycle wheelsunmoving and tile trails, each piece a mosaicked religion we worship...
