“YOU HAVE EVERY RIGHT TO BE SAD,” the twelve-foot billboard along the left side of Route 93 shouted at me in tall neon letters as our car went roaring past. Of course, it didn’t say exactly that. It was probably … Continue reading

The End of Bradbury Road

Mémère and Pépère’s potato farm sits at the end of Bradbury road, three minutes outside of Fort Kent. My mother and her six siblings grew up on this farm with my grandparents, harvesting potatoes until the tips of their fingers were sore and stained with fertilizer.

A Florida Wonderland

When we moved to Eglin Air Force Base in Florida, everything was as white as a blank canvas. The walls of our square, flat-roofed home were brand-new, white plaster. White cement sidewalks were freshly laid, lining the new, smoothly-paved roads, and even the ground itself was white as sand.

The Aquarist

From as early as I can remember, until I was eight or nine, I managed a chain of diverse aquariums along the sandy shore of Watch Hill Cove. The real estate upon which I built my summertime empire is a shallow stretch of sand that appears and disappears according to the tide. Although technically it is a beach, to call it that would be misleading.