As the island empties in the growing darkness of autumn, my mind considers other seashores, other ages, other lives. I think about the Sea of Galilee and what it must
A very agitated man approached me on the beach this morning. He’d set his keys down in the sand near a large piece of driftwood, a broken palm tree trunk,
On the bay side of the island, trees stand on the beach near the water. Their roots are exposed, spreading out below them as the dead branches fan out above