Salt Water

I was twenty-one, and that was the first time I had ever seen the ocean. I slept that night as close to the window as I could, straining my ears for the sound of waves. The ocean was a poetic trope, the longing of Tolkien’s elves, a setting for adventure and tragedy. I loved the idea of it, and I wanted to be lulled into sleep like the heroes of my favorite books, but that was all I knew of the water. 

Green Woods and Stone Ships: The Second Skåne Pilgrimage

Exhausted, sweaty, and painfully hungry, I take my back into the gravel road of what must be Sōdra Ugglarp. On the horizon a long earthen-colored brick building stands against the deep blue sky, like a wall. In front of it, I notice a concrete-pit filled with horse manure. Closest to me, nearly as long as the barn, lies the stone ship, shaped by dozens of massive standing stones, like teeth of a giant rising from the green earth.

Gratitude to My Father from the Road in India

Although my trip companions think that the driving in Delhi, Dharamsala, and Agra is horrible, and that I’m crazy for even considering driving here, my heart salivates over the opportunity. I think of you and wonder whether you’d be up to renting scooters in Dharamsala or Delhi and taking a turn or two.

A Dispatch from the Totality

Sköll had caught Sunna; Fvni Lusa had begun his meal; Apep’s gaze had overwhelmed mighty Ra. In town, the church bells tolled, sounding that it was two o’clock or the end of the world. My father complained that he couldn’t see the corona through his eclipse glasses, and I told him they weren’t useful anymore.