Not-yet-published pieces, stories, essays, rants, and random strangenesses

April may be the cruellest month, breeding lilacs out of the dead land, mixing memory and desire, stirring dull roots with spring rain,...

This morning, four white ibises, digging with great vigor into a sward of grass next to the road, taking their breakfast al fresco. A...

I mentioned on Facebook that poetry saved my life. Adam and I were discussing Gerard Manley Hopkins (Adam had written a few lines of...

You know it’s fall when the Gala apples are better than sex and the cinnamon brooms are back in stock at the grocery store. Now, it’s...

Lots of family and family-of-family; a couple of neighbors; a few very dear friends of mine; a few family friends of my brothers. Flowers...

The news is depressing, I’m afraid. A twelve-year-old girl was out walking her dog on a farm near the town of Sauðárkrókur, Skaga fjord...

No, this isn’t my video, but this fellow’s song is remarkably similar to the one my little friend has been singing outside my window...

Scientists say the Earth is humming. Not just noise, but a deep, astonishing music. Can you hear it? By Mark Morford San Francisco Gate...

An impoverished surfer has drawn up a new theory of the universe, seen by some as the Holy Grail of physics, which has received rave...

On the third of November, autumn finally came to central Florida. We’ve had a break in the great summer heat for a month or so, but not...

The chattering classes are heading to the Amazon in search of esoteric highs. Are shamans the new shrinks? by Clover Stroud The Sunday...

When my brother enticed my mother to move down to Florida, he told her that Cape Canaveral was chosen as the NASA launch site because...

by Tirthankar Mukherjee, The UB Post (Ulaanbatar, Mongolia) Thursday, July 05, 2007 Kalidasa, the Indian poet-dramatist whose Meghadutam...

How poetically appropriate that the End of Humanity should come from such a tiny, sweet source By Mark Morford, SF Gate Columnist...

Last night I swore I’d never again set foot in the Black Hills. Today I feel pulled back there, if for no reason than to see what they...

My first shock was the realization that Kyle, South Dakota, on the Pine Ridge Reservation, where I was to meet with Vincent Blackfeather,...

The wind is so high, it’s causing dust devils all over the place—pink-brown whirlwinds of dust, dancing like small tornadoes, dancing...

This is the time of year in Florida when we get to keep our windows open, or at least we open and close them intermittently. Last night,...

This morning I came to a startling conclusion: it’s all Tim and Kathleen’s fault. Every bit of it. Well, them and my now-long-dead Nana....

When despair for the world grows in me and I wake in the night at the least sound in fear of what my life and my children’s lives may be,...