The simple life . . .
Lying on my back, my book held arm’s length above my face, it shades my eyes from the bright sun. I read and sunbathe along the…
Sea glass wisdom . . .
Wearing flip-flops, I walk slowly, slightly stooped, along the pebbled shore. I am careful to maintain my balance on the rocky water’s edge as I search…
Be kind . . .
The weather has been beautiful in recent weeks, warm enough for shorts and summer dresses. I dig through a makeup bag searching for a second elastic…
School days . . .
An early morning message had me misty eyed. One of my former bosses, colleague and friend, was perusing Instagram and stumbled upon one of my photos…
Was it worth it? . . .
Scrolling Instagram, I pause on a photograph, a couple whose world travels I follow. I skim the short summary of their current journey and a zillion…
Home is where the love is . . .
I sit shotgun as my cousin Moira zips down the tiny, narrow streets of Somana into Mandello. Windows down, the mountain air blows through the car.…
thank you, pass it on . . .
A small book on meditation, a list of handwritten recommendations from a private session with my yoga teacher, and a few cherished notes from friends are…
Wherever I go . . .
Tapping away on my keyboard, I reread phrases, type and delete words, and feel a range of emotions in the span of a few hours as…
The journey continues . . .
Scrittrice. . . The Italian word for a female writer, and extremely difficult to pronounce. Sometimes when I power walk along the canal I say it…
The magic I have . . .
It’s raining in Milan, gray and dreary. I wonder if the weather has anything to do with how I feel, missing home. I talked to my…
