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BarnaclesBarnacles
Our dock juts out into the bay, and when we pull up a rope that holds a float, I find it covered with barnacles. I’m always surprised at how quickly
Forever ChangingForever Changing
Visitors to the island sometimes ask me if I grow weary of the seascape which surrounds me, if perhaps it begins to pall with familiarity. My answer is always the
Empty CallsEmpty Calls
Just before morning’s light, a whip-poor-will settles in the tree outside my window and begins his monotonous “whip-poor-will” cry. Again and again, breaking the stillness of the night, I hear