By Seán Malone and John Sweetman When Seán and I talked about this story, the original intent was to reflect our adventures in sailing various boats. Things got out of hand in that Seán had his own darn good story to tell. His boat was a wooden rig ketch of indeterminate age powered by some…
By Ali Elsberry Warm summer mornings are my absolute favorite; a quiet stillness in the air, the birds out singing messages to one another, and plants that seem to be so much more alive in those early hours. I have walked around my yard noticing things in the morning that appear to speak with more…
By Erin Durrett Drums in hand, we stand on the edge of the central tidepool at Point Robinson and watch a tiny speck afloat on the East Passage waters just off Redondo Beach. A great blue heron is fishing nearby, and we watch it take a bit of a fish just caught by two otters….
By Michael Shook Kirttimukha, Face of Glory, is a demon in Hindhu mythology who symbolizes the monstrous nature of life and the glory to be found in realizing that this is just how life is, and discovering how to live in it. Read more about Kirttimukha in Part 1 of this series, published in May…
By March Twisdale Authors Note: Written in collaboration with Jane Valencia, Island queer community residents, business owners, and others impacted by recent events. No matter how you slice it, a pitchfork mob is to be avoided. Lately, we seem to be forgetting this. Most are familiar with the story of “Beauty and the Beast.” In…
By Seán Malone and John Sweetman We drank water out of hoses, ate dirt and raw oysters, and fell down steep cliffs. We had other dangerous hobbies, such as climbing the nearly vertical clay bank down at the beach or paddling logs out to the middle of Colvos Passage to wait for a freighter and…
By Seán Malone and John Sweetman “Hey! That Western gray squirrel is back!” And sure enough, that troublemaker was back pestering the Douglas squirrel, and we had a protective obligation to the native rodent versus the invasive Western gray bully type, that ate a lot of Seán’s birdseed for his wild birds, which the squirrels…
By Daniel Hooker Two Stories. A young woman, maybe 35 years old, came to the table. “Do you have any formal dress clothes? I just got a job. It starts tomorrow.” She went on to explain that, in Seattle, someone had broken into her car and stolen all her clothes and shoes. She was nine…
By Michael Shook Once one’s facade of innocence is peeled away – invariably in a painful manner – nothing ever again looks quite the same. This is a good thing. Among the many salutary effects I experienced as a result of my “fall to earth” was the collapse of the notion that humanity is perfectable….
By Suzanna Leigh My friend Geri told me she owns part of the beach on the north end of Tramp Harbor, where the road to Ellisport runs along the shore (in Washington State, most beaches are privately owned as far as the mean low tide line). I think she owns the part with the old…