Pennsylvania: After the Storm

It has been a winter without snow in Brooklyn, this New York City borough geographically located in Long Island. The waters of the Atlantic must be warm because I've only seen a dusting, at the beginning of February. Yesterday, though, a few snowflakes fell in the afternoon, and that was enough to thrill me for … Continue reading Pennsylvania: After the Storm

Siguiendo a la Luna

El lunes salí a caminar al final de la tarde. Hice una caminata al estilo del ensayo "Walking" de Henry David Thoreau; es decir, con espíritu aventurero y espontáneo y sin rumbo definido. De hecho inicié mi recorrido como paseo urbano, ambulando por algunas calles de los barrios de Windsor Terrace y Park Slope. Sin … Continue reading Siguiendo a la Luna

Mary Oliver: American Primitive

Lao Tzu, Rumi, David, Emerson, Wordsworth, Gibran, and Mary Oliver have taught me, over the years, that I never finish reading a book of wisdom poetry. When I read the last psalm, song, or poem, I simply put the book down for a while--sometimes for a few years--until one day whim, genius, or spiritual thirst … Continue reading Mary Oliver: American Primitive

The English Patient: Nationlessness and Namelessness

Sometimes reading takes us out "on a walk." For many years I had longed to return to the Egyptian-Lybian desert and to the hills of Tuscany by reading Michael Ondaatje's novel The English Patient (1992). About a month ago I was finally able to let Ondaatje's lyrical storytelling take me on that walk. I have … Continue reading The English Patient: Nationlessness and Namelessness

Floral Simplicity

It is a cold, gray afternoon. Worries weigh on my mind like the nimbostratus, filled with rain, that hover over the land. In search of a wise, earthy voice, I seek Mary Oliver's poetry in my library. I come upon the poem "Just Lying on the Grass at Blackwater." These verses strike me as the … Continue reading Floral Simplicity

Simplicity and Love

Last night October ended with a full moon showing its glowing face through a veil of cirrocumulus above Tárcoles. This morning, November arrived with a soft, luminous dawn over Cerro Turrubares. I welcomed it from my hammock at La Libélula. It felt like the quiet, solitary, peaceful beginning of a new vital cycle. Two writers … Continue reading Simplicity and Love