An old white rowboat with blue trim sitting on a sandy beach with blue ocean to the right and a cloudy blue sky above


We sailed out further than I ever imagined and turned to look back, gauge the distance, watch the changing sky.

The ocean at sunset with orange and yellow clouds in the sky reflected in the waves below.

The more the merrier

The day we gathered to remember you, fires rampaged across our state as the diablo winds whipped October and stories circled like whirling leaves

River rushing over rocks in between a row of green trees on both banks

At 60

I am no longer all bones and angles. My sharp points have been sanded smooth, gently curved into a softer version of my former self.

Sandy beach with waves in the background. In the foreground, there are four pieces of driftwood stuck vertically into the sand.


… even this late, it comes — the knowing, the unbearable laid true for five years: you are gone.

Pismo Beach pier at sunset. The sky is orange and water is blue-purple with orange reflections of the lights on the pier

You don’t notice the dying leaving

You don’t notice the dying leaving
when they really choose to leave you.

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