“Red bird came…firing up the landscape…as nothing else could.” A poet friend sent me a book this week called Red Bird. It is a book of delectable poems by Mary Oliver, who also lives by the sea. On Edisto Island,…
“Red bird came…firing up the landscape…as nothing else could.” A poet friend sent me a book this week called Red Bird. It is a book of delectable poems by Mary Oliver, who also lives by the sea. On Edisto Island,…
I am in love with Ocean lifting her thousands of white hats in the chop of the storm, or lying smooth and blue, the loveliest bed in the world. In the personal life, there is always grief more than enough,…
Pigs and barbeque and the new rock star butchers in Charleston have been on my mind for the last few days, so this well preserved smokehouse outbuilding, on Botany Bay Plantation, conjured images of charcuterie close to home. Built in…
“But the pearls were accidents, and the finding of one was luck, a little pat on the back by God or the gods both.” – John Steinbeck, The Pearl Yesterday I wrote of swine, er, ‘fine swine’, those heirloom hogs…
