Two o’ clock is an unbearable time to be functioning in Southern Spain. We walk, or rather, trudge home each day. I fan myself, lifting my shirt away from my skin. My youngest son’s glasses fog over, and my oldest’s hair is slick with sweat. We’re testy—the backpacks are too heavy, my hand is too … More Interlude

Opening Doors

Today, the boys and I were eating lunch with some friends at a beach cafe. The sun pressed on my shoulders like a lead blanket, and I fanned the menu in front of my face. I sipped my tinto de verano and watched as my son ran up to me from the shoreline. “Mama!” he … More Opening Doors

Monkey Mind

In my backyard, something is always blooming. As I sit here at my patio table, I see the sunlight illuminating a grouping of tall shrubs. The effect is a bit like organic stained glass, shades of moss and green and yellow. If I were to walk around the corner, I would duck my head over … More Monkey Mind

Song of the Streets

The boys and I walk to their school in the mornings now. It’s roughly a ten minute amble, and with every step, I unlock another secret of my town. My neighbor sits by his front door as we pass, his terrace sagging with soon-to-be-harvested grapevines. “Buenas,” he calls, lifting an arm in greeting. We cross … More Song of the Streets