barefoot anthropology

I live under the elliptical of a family of bald eagles. Each morning they circle the jagged line that divides land and sea. I live...

Every year, I fly home to Yorba Linda, California for Christmas. The golden sun sets melt into the ocean beyond the horizon. I brea...

  Descending the gritty staircase carpeted with wet maple leave, I can hear the hush of waves getting closer. I scale wind and wa...

As a non-practicing person of LDS heritage, I have fallen out of the habit of watching general conference. I am still connected to Morm...

For the last several years I have tried to commemorate the solstice with at least some acknowledgement of this our longest day of the...