Come On Over

“Peaches, ripe for the picking,” my neighbour tells me from atop his tractor as he passes by. “We can’t eat them all.” No need to ask me twice. This morning I headed over with an empty picking sack. I’ll be honest, in all the years I’ve lived next door to this farm, I thought they…

Read More

Beach Sandskrit

We were walking on Malibu beach yesterday as the tide was going out. It left behind a long tale of the previous few hours, written in seaweed and flotsam. I didn’t count how many different types of seaweed left their notes on the sand, but from the number of red lobster shells in the receding…

Read More