Short Fiction: The Banks of Noon
Photo by Lance Anderson The times I remember us throwing Smiley out the hatch on that plane always come two different ways. In the first, we all heave to…
Photo by Lance Anderson The times I remember us throwing Smiley out the hatch on that plane always come two different ways. In the first, we all heave to…
The Balcony Gardener loved April. Spring had arrived again, and with it came a quiet accumulation of ideas for the new season’s balcony garden. April did not require announcement. It…
Photo courtesy Shakespeare and Company In preparing for a recent trip to Paris, my first ever, I had my “to do” list pretty well mapped out. Drink Champagne at…
Photo by Paul Steuber March arrives as it always does—with ambition slightly out of proportion to available space. The Balcony Gardener draws up three lists. Seeds to order. Seeds…
Michael Laboon, "Roots and Wings," San Luis Obispo Art Around Town For Ann Ream This is where we enter the dark This is where we must go it alone…
Photo by Sofya Kholodkova Six a.m.—light of a new day just beginning to illuminate patches of distant waves through a dense haze. Tideline dotted with clamshells, some closed and…
Photo by Catt Liu This morning I’m awakened by a discussion outside my window between a wild turkey and a crow. It seems a friendly exchange, even when decibels…
There is something big as the sky inside you A blue cloudless sky An ocean inside you Have you heard it move Along the lines of your eyes Felt it…
The Balcony Gardener and her beloved dog Teddy were enjoying a patch of late January sun that had wandered, briefly, into February’s jurisdiction. Teddy lay with his chin on his…
My ten-year-old self climbs into her time machine, aims for age twenty-four, and over-shoots the mark. In the ballpark still, but landing with me, age eighty, she pouts, wants…