While gardening outside our sunroom last week, I discovered two gorgeously plumed male black-headed grosbeaks dead below a window. They lay side-by-side, heads pointed toward the window.
It’s peak bloom time at Meerkerk Rhododendron Gardens in Greenbank, and the Grateful Deadheaders are out in force.
Spam is making headlines again. No, not the unwelcome flow of useless input that constantly pops into your computer; the other Spam, the pink meaty stuff that comes in a can.
How does one stage a talk about sex between a father and son?
Musical theater talent abounds at South Whidbey High School.
Mud and minds over afterglow, equals glazed and confused.
Check out the video of this year’s Chalk Art Festival.
Last Saturday night, upon returning from a day of fun in the Coupeville sun, I realized again how difficult it is to wind down when one is wound up.
Nourishment of all that is beautiful might seem a superfluous endeavor to some.
It’s last Friday morning as I’m writing this; you remember last Friday morning, don’t you?
Moody, ebullient and exotic is what they challenge themselves to be.
Motion in itself is compelling.
What’s a cow to do when he loses his moo?
