The Edge of the World
There is a peculiar gravity to the places where the land finally gives up. We call them coastlines, but that is a clinical term for what is essentially a surrender. I have often thought about the people who choose to stand at these boundaries…
The Weight of the Day
There is a specific exhaustion that arrives only when the light begins to fail. It is not the tiredness of the muscles, but of the spirit. We carry our days like stones in a coat pocket, heavy and smooth from the friction of living. By evening,…
The Salt on the Skin
The air by the water always tastes of salt and damp wool. It is a thick, heavy taste that clings to the back of the throat, reminding me of childhood summers where the sand felt like coarse sugar between my toes. I remember the feeling of a…