Swan, Swan . . .

Since the sun has been out, and I see signs of daffodils pushing up through the soil, I will go ahead and call it spring. I’m good at creating my own reality.

On a walk on Friday, my husband and I saw trumpeter swans on Cascade Lake.

Hi There!

Such a beautiful morning . . .

As the sun hit the rocks and the sides of trees, steam rose up and slowly evaporated.

  I feel very fortunate to live on such a beautiful island.

This week marks my tenth anniversary of island life.

Sometimes this little rock feels crazy and claustrophobic.

But most of the time this little world feels as vast as the universe.





I wish you a beautiful early spring.

Christmas Eve

It’s seventy degrees with perfect blue skies. This is far removed from my usual rainy and soggy island.

Driving along Pacific Coast Highway, I spied the mist spray of a whale surfacing in the calm waters.  It’s early for gray whale migration, but I imagine that’s what I saw.

If I believed in omens, I would say this is an omen for good things to come. For I am sure in a fictional world a gray whale would be my familiar.

Or, perhaps I’ve had too much sun today.

I spent the afternoon on Leo Carrillo Beach. With craggy rocks, caves, and tide pools, this beach is probably my favorite of all.

I wish everyone happiness and good things to come for the new year.


>I went outside a few minutes ago to latch the garden gate (I don’t want deer dining on my spring plants). I’m always a little surprised to look up and see so many stars. I forget sometimes about the stars–the billions of worlds existing elsewhere. I still remember the first time I learned that the stars in the night sky were suns and galaxies. I started thinking obsessively about other life–something alive watching me from another corner of the sky.


I’ve been busy editing a novel and training for a new job. My days filled with work and obligation. I stop to watch the stars and remember those child thoughts–and remember my imagination.