The ponga floats on the lake silently in the night, with only the sound of the water lapping or slapping at the wooden sides. Flora wonders where the ripples come from out here on this big flat water, a black pool ringed by the distant volcanoes, silhouettes of old gods in… Read full post »

"Well, Rachel," the weathered guy in plaid flannel shirt and baseball cap says, perring around the steam rising from his white ceramic mug of coffee, "How do you like Sandpoint?"

We're seated side by side on the red swivel stools at the counter of Mary's Cafe. I was here first and… Read full post »

many years before I read it in my Existentialism class (4 credits) my freshman year at Stanford. It stuck in my mind. "Hell is the other."

He could just as well have expounded that "Heaven is the other." That glance that enlivens, the searing touch of flesh, the intimate connection with… Read full post »

I don't remember when I started forgetting. I think it was a long time ago, but maybe not. The accordion of time expands and contracts in my brain, and I can't tell you when something happened (or didn't happen) in my life--I just know it was in the past. Well, obviously… Read full post »

A river flows past the castle, all green water moving--shifting surfaces at geometric angles catching and casting light. The castle stares down at the rapscallion water in disapproval at its capricious play. Water takes no responsibility for what it carries or where. Water shrinks identity, single dr… Read full post »

_{photo courtesy of MaryAnn}

         This year El Rebalse de Apazulco celebrates its 68^th birthday since formation of the ejido in 1943. A sleepy little town on Jalisco’s coast, Rebalsito is k… Read full post »

       It’s a smooth trip out this time (except for Chile’s forgetting the key to the gate of the road to the Vena. David and I spend some time waiting with the stuff for his return, and I have time to get acquainted with the local cows who provide the milk… Read full post »

            In order to get all the necessary gear to the beach, Chile and Norm had made two runs in Chile’s boat up the Vena, off-loading tents, camp stove, propane tank and water jugs down in the mangrove swamp behind Chile/… Read full post »

           It’s a smooth landing on the beach with just one following wave that splashes into the panga. We’ve navigated through some of the biggest swells Chile has ever seen around… Read full post »

  I knew it would be hard coming back. Because I can’t really come back at all—I can only come back to Rebalsitos and Dobie’s house here in the village—but I can’t get back to Tenacatita, the bea… Read full post »

        If one is the annoying sort of person who is wheat-sensitive—moi—coming up with a good grilled cheese sandwich is tricky business—especially here in Mexico where that most fashionable malady is, as yet, a late arrival. Oh, probably there is… Read full post »

        If one is the annoying sort of person who is wheat-sensitive—moi—coming up with a good grilled cheese sandwich is tricky business—especially here in Mexico where that most fashionable malady is, as yet, a late arrival. Oh, probably there is… Read full post »

A NON-COOK MARCHES FORTH!

            It has come to my attention over the past eleven years since the death of my chef/chauffeur/companero that if one wants to eat anything other than sandwiches or salads, cooking is involved, much to m/… Read full post »

            I take it as a sign of my aging that I find myself more anxious than I used to be setting out on a trip.  I grow querulous and irritable, I get that old familiar morning-after feeling of being ungrounded—as if… Read full post »

         There’s something a little witchy about mangroves. All those intertwined silvery limbs like a root system that properly belongs underground. But instead they descend into the murky, salty waters of the lagoon, like some kind of silent preh… Read full post »

_{photo by  danenslow}

“Are you sure?”

 Linda turned her face toward me , sunlight glaring off the surface of her mask, her eyes invisible.

“I’m sure,” I replied.

We stood on the smooth stones littering the white sand of the… Read full post »

of Privatization: Will Tenacatita Turtles Survive?  

When I first visited Tenacatita in 1975 it was as a day- tripper visiting with my new boy friend. Steve, cerveza in hand, introduced me to his… Read full post »