Lizbeth

It was freaking cold outside! Minus 17. Windchill something like minus 35. Unfortunately, the only table available at Eckerman’s café that afternoon was right in the path of the front door. Each time anyone entered or left, I braced myself for the spray of frigid air that would rush directly to my legs, find its way between my wool socks, my old, torn up long johns, and my four decades out of style brown cords, directly to my knees, where it would cling… like crazed owls, digging their icy talons into my flesh.

The Water Puppies of Sìthachulish

“Aost places have magic, ‘n’ this is a sàr aost place.” The antiques merchant was staring at me intently across the counter when he said this. His sparkling green eyes, set deeply in the rough terrain of his crevassed face, reminded me of the Glittering Wood-moss dotting the hillside among the ancient Norse castle ruins behind his shop.

“Ok, well, can I put my flyer up for my missing dog?” I asked. I didn’t know if they called small posters flyers in the Scottish Highlands, so I held up the paper with Sid’s picture on it with the word “MISSING” scrawled across.

Time Spotting

Train Station Observation Decks (TSODs) are strange places. Because they have been built to observe all time streams, you can often find people sitting there for hours, watching departed loved ones board trains at various times in the past. It’s hard not to get emotional when you see a father pointing out “Mommy” to a 4-year-old as they watch reruns of her boarding from before a tragic accident or illness.