weekend magazine
even in the winter weekends on our tiny island we are outside in cold winds and clear skies—filling ourselves
tiny snackers
every winter we put fruit out for the birds that we share our home with, and oranges are a favourite
proof of life
the year's tipped over its highest point and started rolling towards the end again, and here i am,
no safe place to land
(the big little adventure that wasn’t)
as i write this, we’re sitting in a hotel in the south
weekends in october
(because it's december now • and october demands to be remembered)
october is lunch in the city with a
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