“untethered, like moonwalking”

Cove Island Park. 7:30 a.m. March 25, 2025. Check out the fog here.


Post title from Roisín O’Donnell’s Nesting: A Novel (Algonquin Books, February 18, 2025)

Wait for it…

Don’t miss more photos from this morning’s walk here.

Monday Morning Wake-Up Call

In this astonishing world, music itself raced through the morning stillness and, in a flash, was gone.

— Riku Onda, Honeybees and Distant Thunder (Translated by Philip Gabriel) (Pegasus Books, May 2, 2023)


DK photo at twilight this very chilly morning. See more pictures from this morning’s walk here.

Pink Sky in the morning…

More photos from this morning’s walk here.

Walking. No, it’s not a mirage.

Wow, let’s give DK an attaboy for showing up on his own blog? An unscheduled sabbatical, like forever. MIA without notice.

Let’s give Anneli credit for my return, this being a far less ambitious adaption of her February effort, but hey, it’s Something.

The mood has been shifting anxiously between Renkl: “often it feels like the only thing left to do is rage against the dying of the light” and Murakami: “All that remained now was a sort of quiet resignation” and my recent fan boy affection for Charlotte Wood: “The beauty of being here is largely the silence, after all. Not having to explain, or endlessly converse.” 

The Cove Island morning walks continue, despite the bitter cold. If I was counting, it would be 1,746 consecutive (almost) mornings. Like in a row. But who’s counting?!

It’s early morning Feb 10th, I’m heading to the cliff at The Cove. I’m standing in the spot taking the shot above, fingers numb from the cold, winds gusting up to 30 mph.

You Blue DK?

Continue reading “Walking. No, it’s not a mirage.” →