Too much reminds me of something else lately. The slanted winter light; the musty smell emanating from the abandoned buildings I pass, or the old books…
1

December 2022

Everything in the narrow lanes of marble and granite mausoleums, monuments and headstones glows with that peculiar half-light of late autumn, early…
2

November 2022

I am at a loss for words. I am at a loss for words in three languages. There are experiences in life we know we shall encounter and there are those that…
“How does someone from Nebraska end up living in Lisbon?” I am asked this question every week by American and British visitors to the Portuguese…
2

September 2022

The air is silver with sea mist—the hills of Setúbal, beyond the Rio Tejo, glimmer watercolor like, their serenity at odds with the roar of airplanes…

August 2022

On Keeping Journals
"The bookcase glows, backlit in crimson light—tall and broad, its shelves empty—" This singular sentence is all that survives of the fourth draft of…
2

July 2022

I have been homesick lately. Not for any of the nine states, two countries and dozens of towns and cities in which I have lived, but for a particular…
The evening sky glows peach and lavender above the Rio Mondego. The bridge is lined with people holding candles, as are all the streets leading from…

June 2022

There was a time when emigrating to Portugal seemed impossible. The Portuguese Consulate in San Francisco was shuttered, as was much of the world in the…
"Did it matter then, she asked herself, walking towards Bond Street, did it matter that she must inevitably cease completely; all this must go on…

May 2022

The work never stops on a farm—especially an old farm, with ceaseless renovations and repairs to see to. Leaking roofs, aging doors, gardens and…