Minnesota’s winter prairies are fields of white as you fly north. Below, trees emerge from the snow. First deciduous ones,…
In Venice by Gloria Nixon-John
In Venice (a prose poem) It is raining in Venice, and I am alone. The empty gondolas bob; their lacquered…
Looking Back at Dharavi by Elana Wolff
Looking Back at Dharavi: Pre-Pandemic My husband and I were on a small-group tour in India from February 2–18. We…
What Climbing a Cascade Volcano Feels Like by Josh deLacy
I don’t think much about pack weight, other than how heavy mine is next to Ben’s. We’re more or less…
Morocco: A Call to Prayer by Elie Axelroth
The muezzin lolls me out of a deep sleep with his plaintive call to prayer. It’s 5:30 in the morning, pitch…
A Beginner Gets His Legs by Mike Kentz
“Agachate!” The Spanish command is coming from over the back of my right shoulder, just over the top of a…