Running Reveries

By 1430 the sun is already low in the sky.  It lingers above the tips of the mangey jack pines and spruce to my right and gives the impression that if I run fast enough, I could overtake it.  I am listening to the spectral, doom-laden Irish folk of Oxn (a first...

Having Gone, I Will Come Back

In memorium Shane MacGowan It was time to return to the ship.  In the early afternoon of a mild December day, I drove yet another rental car on the QEW, south, towards the American border. Tens of thousands of starlings moved in front of my vehicle. Two flocks that...