Most personal narratives are built word by word. My friend Sophia weaves hers story by story. She is the most free- and deep-spirited person I know, a bookend to the anxiety and isolation that confines us now.  From the Free Speech Movement at UC Berkeley, Sausalito’s houseboat community, San Francisco’s transformational (a.k.a human potential) movement, trekking in Tibet, teaching survival …

In Oregon, we are entering our fourth week of enforced social distancing. In this preternaturally health conscious state, citizens and businesses fell in line quickly. I wasn’t surprised. Nor was I surprised when a few days ago, Jackson County (our county) made COVID-19 news: our per capita testing rate, it turns out, was second only to New York City, a …

As I sat down to write this coronavirus update, I looked again at the post I wrote a little over two weeks ago, ”Wellness in the Time of COVID-19.” It began: As COVID-19 stalks the globe, the term ‘wellness’ has narrowed its focus to not (yet) infected. Psychologically, of course, we are all already infected. So far, the West Coast has borne the …

As COVID-19 stalks the globe, the term “wellness” has narrowed its focus to not (yet) infected. Psychologically, of course, we are all already infected. So far, the West Coast has borne the brunt of the U.S. coronavirus toll, though the East Coast is catching up. As of March 7, Washington State had recorded the most COVID-19 cases, more than 80, and the highest …

The four, caged feral cats in the back of our Subaru wagon were speechless. We’d collected them a few minutes before at the Jackson County Animal Services, where they had been neutered rather than euthanized and granted a ninth life. Now, freshly anointed “working cats,” they were on their way to their new assignment: rodent control on a small farm …

Note: I have spent much of the fall kibitzing my videographer friend Kathy Roselli on her latest film—on an unlikely topic: a 7,900 foot composting toilet on Mt. Shasta (30 miles south of Ashland). I prepared a brochure for the Sierra Club Foundation and K-Rose Productions to accompany the film, and I figured I’d share it here. It’s a long …

Early this fall, along interstate 5 just north of Ashland, the air sometimes smelled of skunk—not the sharp odor of roadkill, but a foul smell that hung like fog. I later learned that I was smelling hemp, not skunk, growing on fields next to the Interstate.  Hemp, you probably know, is a strain of non-psychoactive cannabis grown specifically for “industrial uses.” …