There are fireworks over Vashon. It was a game of Small Domination, of monkey-off-the-back vindication. The Seahawks won the Super Bowl. They became the best team in the National Football League by winning little battles, by making a long string of right decisions. The losers, the New England Patriots, took an almost certain Super Bowl…
By Lyndsey Braun-Palmer There’s something grounding and reverent about the process of cleaning skulls – carefully removing the layer of tissue to study the animal’s bone structure. Each skull has its own anatomy, subtle differences that make every one unique. It becomes a quiet moment of respect, curiosity, and reflection. This one is my blacktail buck from…
The following poem is included in a new anthology of poems written by over 30 Vashon poets, and edited by Jeanie Okimoto of Endicott and Hugh Books. ~ tail end of winter lighting the wood stove with the obituary page ~ Michael Feinstein is a writer and poet living on Vashon Island.
Tige and Daisy Leamer outside Leamer’s Shopping CenterCourtesy of Candace BrownPhotographer: Howard Willsie By Richard Odell Did I imagine Daisy’s? My father liked to circulate. He had me in tow, at age three or four, deep in the 1950s. I remember an interior scene where today is Minglement. The presence of several adults, their voices…
By Michael Shook With the holidays a memory, the New Year upon us, and the light returning, the days are ripe with all manner of possibility. The resolute among us are excited to enact their resolutions. I wish them all success. No resolution for me, since I resolved to give up resolutions some time ago…
By Mike Curtin My article last November discussed 3I/ATLAS – what it was made of, where it traveled from, and ways it behaved differently than other comets we have seen. Some people say 3I/ATLAS is a ship, or even a consciousness, come to observe us here on earth as we make a major transition. 3I/ATLAS…
The Holiday Addition By Dave B. I realize this is now January and I should have created this for the December issue of The Loop, but maybe we could pose these questions for the New Year and decide if we even have answers for the below silliness. After all, the holidays can be trying and…
By Richard Odell I’ve always associated the 1940s with the color blue. Why, I don’t know. The 1930s I’ve seen always as dull green. Picture books, maybe, dated objects, impressed indelibly the child’s perception. That I associate the 1950s with black and white seems obvious enough, for the greater world first came to this child’s…
By Jane Valencia Larkspur Conservation Cemetery, Taylor Hollow, TN. Gravestone – photo by Jane Valencia Last year our family researched the possibility of home burial – you know, where, if you have land, you can bury your family the old-fashioned way. Dig a deep hole in the ground and lay your loved one in. Home…