There hasn’t been much travel these days. If you check the travel blog side of this site, there’s a big gap where not much happens. I’ve been finding it hard to be landlocked and still. And lately, I’ve been missing the ocean.
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Years ago, I visited the Ballard Locks in Seattle, Washington to watch how boats traveled between Puget Sound and Seattle’s freshwater lake system. Watching and learning how boats are elevated between different water levels while preventing salt water from contaminating fresh water was fascinating, but that was not the part that made it into this poem.
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Time to take a bit of a rest and celebrate with a little mango coconut gelato!
This will be the last post of the year, and I feel like it is a perfect summary of how the writing journey never ceases to surprise me and remind me that there are always more firsts to discover.
This post was supposed to be about my very first Best of Net Anthology nomination, but has since morphed into my first three Best of the Net Anthology nominations.
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I’d be lying if I said that I was an avid canoer. But I do enjoy it when I get the chance. Most of my canoe adventures happen on the Glenmore Reservoir and absolutely love that place. On my second time out, I wrote a poem and it is now floating in a brand new journal with a theme about lakes, paddles, and secrets.
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Sometimes the idea for the form comes before the actual story. I’ve been wanting to do a hybrid prose/poetry piece for some time now. Perhaps that was in the back of my mind when I sat down to write this little piece about wandering the house at night and the things we don’t see.
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I love the ocean, but I suck at swimming which was perhaps a bit of the inspiration for this microfiction piece that clocks in at a tiny 94 words.
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I’m very grateful to have not one, but two pieces in the 2021 summer solstice issue of the Platform Review. One is about a volcano and the other is about packing up memories in an old cottage perched on a Nova Scotian shore. Interesting enough, the cottage story is completely fiction, and it’s the story about the volcano that has a bit more truth buried in it.
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It’s been a year (almost two now) of staying at home and staying inside. Honestly, it hasn’t been the best for my creativity. However, one perk is that writing classes are virtual and I can attend from the comfort of my own home.
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The house that I grew up in had a small crab apple tree in the front yard. Once September hit, it was not an uncommon sight to see this poor tree with ripe apples get covered by the first snowfall of the season .
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