I live in Hood River, Oregon. The river for which it is named flows north from the foothills of the Mt. Hood National Forest. Its three forks converge ten miles south of town. My youngest son and his family shelter in place near that spot. From there it meanders through woods, pastures, and orchards before … More Sorry, We’re Closed
In the early spring in this year of the pandemic we live in a house on a street that divides the city from the county. The trees in the fruit orchards nearby are past peak blossom and west winds scatter their petals onto the pavement. Strangers walk by the house, in groups of two or … More Deserted Streets, Empty Spaces
“Broken hearts and dirty windows Make life difficult to see.” From Souvenirs by John Prine This photo, from the early 30s, shows the Sherwood children. My mom is bracketed by her brothers and sister: L to R are John, my namesake, Lillian, my mom, sister Edith and brother Stan. They grew up in rural Wisconsin. … More Souvenirs
“Meanwhile, someplace in the world, somebody is making love and another a poem.” From Figuring by Maria Popova I fed hummingbirds all winter. Each time I thought they had departed for a warmer climate, they would appear and take a big slurp from the feeder. I received two petunia plants in September. They continue to … More Today Will Not Be Here Tomorrow
I dislike flying: the herding, the depressing bag of pretzels, and the claustrophobic cabin. It’s a perfect environment for disease transmission and my immune system can’t protect me. Yet, the opportunity to spend the holidays with our oldest son, my brother, and nieces and nephews compelled my wife and I to fly to the San … More Stanyan Street
“In every heart there is a god of flowers, just waiting to stride out of a cloud and lift its wings.” Mary Oliver from The Kookaburras In late August of this year, of the summer when my wildflower garden flourished and yielded a wealth of colorful bouquets, crickets sang each evening their mindful refrain. “Soon,” … More Still Lifes
1969 was a hell of a year. Astronauts from Apollo 11 walked on the moon. The Beatles released Abbey Road, their final album. A national draft lottery was held for men, aged 18-26. In Massachusetts, a tragic auto accident occurred on Chappaquiddick Island. Out west, Charles Manson’s cult committed horrendous murders. That summer, thousands flocked to … More No Other Anywhere
Three of the last five years, my wife and I have Christmased in the San Francisco Bay Area. We visit our son, my brother, and a niece. Our routine is similar: movies every night and dinners at an eclectic collection of restaurants. We choose to stay in Oakland near the Bay Area Rapid Transit, or … More Oakland Noir
Multiple myeloma is a chronic incurable disease. When I was diagnosed in 2007, the prognosis was three to five years. Little more than a decade later, due to advances in research, the statistics have improved. Some patients persist upwards of ten years. I fall into that category: one of the lucky ones. Chronic means it … More The University of Cancer, Part 4
Summer came and went. It left behind a northwest parched by a succession of hot spells so extraordinary that even climate change deniers had their ‘come to Jesus moments’. Rain arrived, at last, in early October. The dire predictions retreated, forgotten along with admonitions to floss our teeth, avoid sugary drinks, and quit smoking. We are … More Summer
