Here’s my essay on why I raced tide and time to grab one last glimpse of Orcas Island. It’s as we’re leaving, the ferry pulling away from the dock with…
Author: <span>Beth Hendrickson</span>
A sweet little forget-me-knot sterling silver ring and a trio of wool felt menagerie heads. A quick glance through Capitol Hill’s neighborhood website throws these twee nuggets into my path, and I…
Kirkland is not the type of town to need a “How do you do” type of introduction from a guidebook. It’s the type of town that walks right up to…
The bridge from Mercer Island into downtown Seattle dips, inexplicably, down toward the water, as if the asphalt sank in humble obeisance toward the wild beauty of the water, or…
In Beethoven’s Fifth, those iconic four heavy strums of “Dum, Dum, Dum, DUM” aren’t supposed to leap from the page with the first downbeat of the conductor’s wand. They come,…
“Upside down…upside right.” Some days are just mixed up like that. Some things go upside down. And other things, which by all other accounts should be right side up, end…