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You can’t drink the ‘best’ tea everyday. Or it becomes the everyday tea. (Not to mention it’s expensive!) But this morning, after a friend sent me the New Yorker excerpt of Paul Kalanithi’s autobiography (My Last Day as a Surgeon), I immersed myself in the process of my ‘everyday’ tea. The fragrance of the steam rising…

Remember how I told you last week that I was trying to be more mindful of time passing? And about reading in Lewis Richmond’s Aging as a Spiritual Practice that his mentor had put pebbles in a bowl, to represent the weeks ahead? Well, a trip to Amazon supplied the ‘pebbles’ — gemstone chips were actually…

This is a liveoak, one of my favourite trees. Because they wear their age gracefully — their gnarled branches reaching out to passersby, beckoning with welcome. Battery Park in Charleston is full of them. Even Hurrican Hugo couldn’t kill them all, despite the feet of water deposited in the park those years ago.  They grow…

This is the view from the balcony, as I write. A study in silver, grey, moss & a blued-white. Beach grass, beach umbrellas, and beach birds. The pelicans that usually circle in front of & above the condos that fringe the shoreline have taken cover. Even the intrepid seagulls have fled. Me? I’m watching in…
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