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Don’t you just love it when someone gives you a great travel recommendation! It’s the best. This happened last summer when a great friend and wonderful traveler, Kathleen Golden, emailed me saying, “You have to do something on St. Petersburg, Russia on your blog. It’s fabulous.” Kathleen...
by Kate Dernocoeur, guest blogger Sometimes I wonder why it ever seems necessary to me to travel beyond my own home. All I have to do is look out the big slider doors to witness endless rounds of fascinating wild creatures, right in my own back yard. The designs of nature as offered by...
by Kate Dernocoeur, guest blogger During two month-long visits to Prague (Czech Republic), I always enjoyed encountering new and various designs in the ubiquitous cobblestones. I found myself enchanted by them on my first visit (2008), and was able to add to my collection of photos on my...
by Kate Dernocoeur, guest blogger With the sky as my ceiling, I am happiest, because it means I am outdoors, immersed in the day, whatever the weather. The air is fresh. I can hear the birdsong and frogs, feel the breeze, smell the earth. When the clouds are backdropped by blue—that’s...
by Kate Dernocoeur, guest blogger They tilt their noses into the air as if peering through bifocals. Their necks kink in a way that would send me scrambling for my chiropractor. They groan, and bawl, and sometimes spit. They burp and fart like nobody’s business. They fascinate me: camels....
by Kate Dernocoeur, guest blogger The opportunity to visit Africa is most meaningful to me for the chance to witness exotic creatures in their natural habitat. Giraffes. Zebras. Monkeys and baboons. Hyenas. Antelope and impala. Lions and leopards and cheetahs. In...
by Kate Dernocoeur, guest blogger Early on, at daybreak tea, I think, oh, this is good. This is comfortable, maybe even on the verge of chilly. The Kenyans are bundled up against the chill that to them is frigid. A shuka is nice, wrapped around my shoulders as we head out for the morning game...
by Kate Dernocoeur, guest blogger She pads up the dirt road like someone quietly scuffing in leather slippers. If I close my eyes, it’s all I hear: scuff…scuff…scuff. Slow. Meditative. I could get lost in the peace of it. She’s an ex-addict. When she came here, it took three weeks...
by Guest Blogger, Peggy DePersia “Everything is made out of magic”….or so it is believed in Camden, Maine. In fact, this quote is etched on a stone laid into a path that marks the street level entrance to the Camden library. I mention the street level entrance because Camden’s sense of it’s own...
by Kate Dernocoeur, guest blogger I am in the dark, last in a line of 16 people. Surrounding us, draped heavily, is sheer black, utter quiet. The old-fashioned lanterns we carry swing on wire handles, casting uneven light on the jagged tunnel floor. It’s not my usual choice of...