Saturday, February 26, 2011


There's so much I don't understand: how (and why) things get where they are, happen the way they do.

Why there was a whole set-up of barstools and chairs on Bannister's Wharf on a frigid February morning, for example. Had people been partying outdoors as if it were mid-summer when in fact it was even colder than frigid the night before??

Or why the shrink-wrapped "Tree of Life" settled in for the winter at Bowen's, the next wharf northward, when there must have been warmer (cheaper) options at her disposal??

The same applies on a grander scale, of course: the whole world seems poised/posed in particularly precarious and not-entirely-logical spot at present. Yes, I realize that's an outrageous understatement. But issues of powers — and abuse of power — aside, it's nice to think goodness prevails (isn't it?). That it must prevail? That there's even a reason for everything? That there's always an okay way out?

I know that's absurd, beyond naive. That it displays an alarming propensity toward blue-sky thinking and a refusal to root one's feet on the ground. I have no idea what I'm talking about. Or why. Or, least of all, why I find it encouraging that a few clumps of tired snow on First Beach manage to survive the tides surrounding them ...

Sunday, February 20, 2011


I was standing in the parking lot at Surfers' End (where Purgatory meets Paradise) the other day pondering the last few crappy weeks. The sun had set, the moon had risen, a few well-insulated paddle boarders were heading out to meet the waves. And it occurred to me that — despite everything — it's still (always?) beautiful here ...