our car lights cut a shinning path over a dark surface as we pass below boughs of great trees   I lean out the window watching leaves twist as we hurry past   stars blink on a dark infinity sky   warm air rushes through my hair, my eyes blink with excitement   our street … More OUR DUSTY ROAD


The last hurrah.  Hot dogs hamburgers lettuce and tomatoes. One more watermelon and a lobster sandwich. Sandy towels. Radios too loud. Crying kids. Chairs folded and stored away. Sun screen, hats and umbrellas pushed into a closet. Swimsuits to the bottom drawer. Restaurants to half staff.  Beach balls released to the wind. Swimming songs lose … More COTTAGE END


          The breath of summer slipped into September as if destined to die.   Humid nights where fireflies attack the dark and ocean breezes lifted my hair, stay in August.   A bonfire dances flames onto youthful tanned faces deeply absorbed with strength.   Porch lights freely welcome homeless bugs while … More SEPTEMBER FIRST


        A twist of air boldly pushes past August light; a song of different color; the end of summer.   Night air signals the aroma of change. Cooler breezes mark time like a parade turning a corner.   No wall of wishes prevents the rolling pattern weaving around me; I am a … More THE NOTHING ZONE


Ocean waves dissolve on the shoreline. Diamond reflections spread cover rock and sand.   The waves are creative voices, a language transported, respecting time, the land and mysteries untold.   The voices are soft, welcoming and sincere. Often we listen but fail to hear the message, the answers the recipes of common sense.  


A homeless empty wind slipped the corner of late August, searching for the last remnant of summer, that final breath of warm air.   Cool nights marked the end and the beginning of another season. Daylight slowly drained away familiar voices and sounds.   The chance of the future depends on the passing of seasons. … More PASSING SEASONS


The town didn’t care an ocean was nearby; diamond winking waves on a waiting shoreline. Voices small; determined shovels and pails. Hot dog aroma, birch beer fizzing on ice. The place where sand and water merge. Eons of friendship between rocks and splitting mountains. Valleys lay open; byproducts of friction. Under the nose of the … More OCEAN NEARBY


It’s almost time for the remembrance of summer as cool August mornings signal September’s expectant entry. The air is different, less humid, lacking early blossomed aroma, clear of humid swells that join to your skin with sweat. Clouds appear sharp and flat, thinly spread onto a less than blue sky.  Afternoon rains have moved south.  … More MAYBE


We open the cottage door; another season.  The air is stale. The rooms echo a hollowness, reminding me of long winter days preceding our arrival. My bed stands alone, neatly made, scattered clothes and shoes have yet to adorn it. My sister sits on the couch wishing we had a phone. The windows are jammed … More OPENING DAY