Cynthia’s New BookClick here to find out more about my new book.
Cynthia’s other books…on Kindle
Looking for Zacate Canyon?It's still around. Just click on the link in the navigation bar above.
Subscribe to This Blog
Tag Archives: Oxford
On this particular Friday, we awoke to the alarm at 6 a.m. and walked over to meet the kids for our drive to Stansted airport and the short flight to Brittany, where our son-in-law’s parents, Jill and Peter, have a … Continue reading
Our lodging is the attic room of an apartment in Oxford, a room we know well, having stayed here several times before. There is a low slanted ceiling, a narrow window overlooking streets and back yards, a few quirky little … Continue reading
At the start, it was like stepping out into a poem. The air was cold and the morning sky still dark as ink above the rooftops and chimneys, with a fading white sliver of moon. My daughter and her husband waited for us … Continue reading
And, here’s a fragment of a song sung by Stornoway(!) for our daughter. I’m so glad I had the presence of mind to record even just a moment or two, ’cause it was pretty special.
Some people seem to possess a special vitality and spark that translates into constant action and creativity. It doesn’t matter what form it takes, they have to craft an object, concoct a recipe, or render a feeling into painting, poetry, … Continue reading
Sometimes I just like the feel of a book even without knowing what’s inside. That’s the way it was with this one, which I found in a charity shop on the Cowley Road in Oxford. It’s a tiny volume, and … Continue reading
I can picture her now, riding her bike to see us at the little St. Clements apartment we’d rented. Her thick dark hair is pulled back and a magenta scarf sets off her pale and luminous skin, and I think, … Continue reading
Three views, one moment…looking down from Magdalen Bridge onto the River Cherwell.
Taking it easy has never been easy for me, but I’ve been so tired for the first few days of this trip that I finally just succumbed — sleeping late and lazing around. I’m no longer a tourist in this place … Continue reading