Fort McClary

Kittery, Maine. We wandered, caressing the ruins. Touching stone hewn before our grandparents were born. Feeling the marks left by long dead hands and looking to the eternal sea. The silence broken only by the conversation between the ravens and waves. While we witnessed time devouring history. and descend; into a passage that took us back, to the light... Continue Reading →

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TBT-Ode to my sister or an elaborate excuse to tell a funny puke story. You decide.

The Little One One of my earliest memory from childhood is of playing on the floor by an old wooden lamp stand we had in the living room.  My parents came into the room and towered over me, backlit by the bank of windows on the far wall. “Honey,” they said. I looked up from... Continue Reading →

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