Every adventure should include a messenger who provides the lesson of your visit. Oslo is on a hill. From the central train station, it climbs steadily. Four miles up is Frogner Park— a grand stretch of green. Advancing to the pinnacle, we passed a mass of bronze,...
Dateline: August, 2064. Remembering Before the Great Awokening It is a relief these days. At 106, no one expects anything from me. Everything I do and remember is a miracle. This morning I am remembering a visit to London, when I thought, that I was old and the world...
In Stockholm, we stayed in a once grand home on the edge of town now filled with junk, mold, and a dangerous set of stairs. It was super cheap and offered rye crackers, cheese, and oatmeal for breakfast. Sweden’s capital is bigger and prettier than Oslo. The...
Walking Welsh Winds. South Wales reminded me of the Driftless Region of Minnesota and Wisconsin, with rolling hills, rivers, and a mixture of forest and field. Yet there was the ocean and warm gulf winds. Plants we only see indoors in Minnesota, grow along the side of...
I began this essay in Montenegro where people speak a local Serbian dialect they defiantly call Montenegrin, and finished writing it in Wales, where Welsh is defiantly visible on every signpost, yet English is undeniably dominant. Such is the language of empire. And...
We were in Montgomery when tornados devastated downtown Selma, on January 12, hitting urban and rural regions across Georgia and Alabama, and killing at least eight people. In the morning we had considered riding to Selma, stopping to take in the art and public...