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…
By Suzanna Leigh It was the summer of 1999, and we had just set the anchor in Longbranch, a little bay in the South Sound. We hadn’t taken the sails down yet when a gust of wind caught the mainsail and nearly sailed us into an odd collection of boats rafted together. The anchor held,…
By Suzanna Leigh During the dark days of winter, my boat sits alone at the dock, the leak I neglected to fix last summer dripping enough moisture into the cabin to encourage mold on the walls and rust on the stove. Her keel sports a beard of sea algae. She needs some work to get…
By Suzanna Leigh Strange word, “mearcstapa.” According to artist Makoto Fujimura in his book “Culture Care,” mearcstapa is an Old English word used in Beowulf. It translates as “border walker” or “border stalker.” A mearcstapa was someone who lived at the edge of their group or tribe, someone who moved between groups. Remember Strider from…
By Suzanna Leigh Resplendent in a blue brocade robe she brought back from the Orient, Marj presides over Easter dinner. A widow now, she is the matriarch who sits at the head of the table and blesses the food. “Lord of the Universe,” she begins, “Thank you allowing us to live in this beautiful place.”…