SCENT OF A WOMAN
LOPEZ ISLAND – Sea lions sing down the sun. The pinnipeds twist on the channel rocks like sausages in a hot pan. Saltwater and cedar perfume the air of the San Juans.
This, I realize, is home.
And now that I know its taste, I will never be lost.
Read it all in the The Seattle Post-Intelligencer on August 23.
When will you write a book, eh?
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