By Suzanna Leigh Beside me, Steve holds his cat Bunny gently, wrapped in a blue bathroom towel. We are driving to the Fair Isle Animal Clinic. The glow of love emanating from the two of them fills the car. This may be Bunny’s last day. When Steve called me first thing this morning, he was…
By Suzanna Leigh James and I were still living with the evangelical Jesus-loving Pilgrims in a mansion on Hilo Bay when it happened. One day while James was in school, I hitchhiked into Hilo to buy some watercolor paints and a roll of rice paper. Karl and his partner, who had so generously put us…
By Suzanna Leigh James and I landed in Honolulu in late February of 1974. No one to meet me, of course. Culture shock; people in shorts, brightly colored shirts, long muumuus, fragrant plumeria leis around their necks. The very air smelled different. I knew no one. I sat on the edge of a fountain with…
Part of a memoir By Suzanna Leigh Illustration by Suzanna Leigh It all came crashing down in early February. There was magic, living in the chicken coop on Maury Island. There were still a few cabbages in the big garden in December, when five year-old James and I moved in with Davey, Phil, and Phil’s…
By Suzanna Leigh Marj Watkins – Illustration by Suzanna Leigh I dreamed about my mother early this morning. She is 101 now, and I see her about every other day. I watch her slow decline and wonder how long she will continue to enjoy life. Sometimes I dream that she is walking easily again, the…
By Suzanna Leigh Gramma Stoltz – Illustration by Suzanna Leigh We called her Gramma Stoltz. She lived in a one-bedroom trailer across the road from her son’s auto wrecking yard and the big house on Cemetery Road where she had raised her children. Here, she tended her quarter-acre garden and a passel of chickens. She…
By Suzanna Leigh I had a conversation with a squirrel the other day. She was a native “Douglas” squirrel, brownish with a brownish-red underbelly. She seemed to defy gravity as she perched on the side of the shed, hind feet up, her head down closer to my eye level. She looked directly into my eyes…
By Suzanna Leigh “Hi! Is anyone aboard this boat?” I put down my scrub brush and looked out over the stern to find the source of the words. Wait … is that woman standing on the water? The woman spoke again. “Is this boat for sale? Can I come look at it?” Nope, not standing…
By Suzanna Leigh Sailing season is winding down; I don’t sail much in winter any more. Now I’m off to a new adventure: making watercolor paint from plants. Color from plants gives me a very different palette than I am used to working with. Will I even like it? Have you ever tried to dye…
By Suzanna Leigh June 24th I was in La Conner scrubbing dark gray lichen off the boat hatch when I got the text. It was from R. “Hi Love, I just heard our friend Wesley passed away last weekend. Her memorial is 11:00 a.m. on Sunday, June 29th. Can you come?” Of course I will…