Photos by Zach Harvey. Story by JP Lee Point Judith, R.I. --- Sometimes on windless nights in May, when everything in the harbor is still, when there’s no boat traffic, no ferries backing in or out, no welders or grinders, no fishermen pulling heavy sweeps and …
Stories
The Ocean is
The ocean-- You bring it home in your pockets and shoes and empty the sand onto the kitchen floor. Tiny grains ground down from continents. On the windowsill is a jar full of sea glass and inside the jar you have your favorites—and not all are smooth and perfect …
A Lobsterboat with some rope in the wheel.
The fear came on as I stood there, a knife in my hand, a tank on my back. The boat drifted with the engine off. We had rope in the wheel. Someone needed to get in the water, cut it out. Breathe like you normally would. In fear situations you never want your …
The importance of the forgettable.
The completely ordinary. The commonplace. The pond and stream that are in every town, spread across everyplace. There are good reasons to think about the pond that one day may become a parking lot. I fully love the shithole of a sluggish stream, where the water …
A very short boyhood fishing sketch.
And don’t I wish to be me again, that hopeful little boy with his hook and tin of worms, climbing down the bank to the river, sliding in the mud, rushing toward the water. At the stream my palms are too sweaty to hold the hook and thread the worm. I see the rocks …
spring for weasels
It doesn’t have to be a mountain lion or a tiger shark—the shadow of a large predator moving along an edge. It doesn’t have to be a huge and beautiful manta ray jumping black against the sun. A person can be shocked by a meadow vole. On your knees in the backyard …
