Far too much time has passed since I’ve spent an afternoon at our local beach. Some stretches of it have closed during this time of quarantine. Entire beach towns are blockaded. Though we’ve tried to behave and stay away, I miss—desperately—that singular beauty at the beach. Disappointing to say, we only fit in one beach…
Winters just aren’t what they used to be when I was a kid. But climate change or not, this one has sure dragged on—and in South America we’re dreading more than anticipating the long winter ahead. I remember so much snow during one childhood winter in Maine that we could jump out the second story…
I’m pressing pause on our Patagonian journey again today, to detour not only north to Mexico, but all the way to my Father’s House for a Mexican fiesta. My 97-year-old friend and mentor, “Aunt” Helen, suffered a severe stroke on Christmas morning, sank into a coma, and woke up in Heaven on New Year’s Eve….
Why bring up beach season in January, you might wonder? Because here in the Southern Cone of South America, we’re reveling in the dog days of mid-summer now. Come hell (tourist traffic) or high water (tsunami warning after a major tremor), we head to the long gray beaches of our city every chance we get….
