The east arm of the Wintu

Who wouldn’t want to read a book called A Field Guide to Getting Lost? I picked up Rebecca Solnit’s essay collection several years ago in the De Young museum shop, simply because I was intrigued by its title. My favorite part was her introduction, a rambling essay called “Open Door,” and…

Rambles along rivers

It had been months since Craig and I had gotten out in the camper, not since we blew out its transmission coming back from Death Valley on New Year’s Eve. Though the camper had long since been repaired, we still had not managed to get away — and Craig was…

Happily eating my vegetables

Yottam Ottolenghi’s cookbooks make me want to become a vegetarian. All his recipes look and sound amazing, but it’s the lovingly photographed vegetable dishes that practically leap off the page with their color and crunch and freshness. I’ve made several of the Mediterranean-inspired recipes from both Plenty and Jerusalem, and they…

A puff of smoke, a swirl of cloak

The train began to move, and Harry walked alongside it, watching his son’s thin face already ablaze with excitement. Harry kept smiling and waving, even though it was like a little bereavement, watching his son glide away from him. The last trace of steam evaporated in the autumn air. The train…

Tea for me!

I hadn’t planned to treat myself that afternoon, but I know how it happened: a long midday walk through Belgravia and Hyde Park had left my feet aching and my stomach growling. Plus, I had three more hours to kill before the evensong service at St. Paul’s. So what should I…

Who is that big-footed bird?

Life gifts us every day with small mysteries, encounters that arouse our curiosity and intrigue our inquiring minds. Like the odd-looking bird I noticed the other day, when I was walking along the Serpentine in London’s Hyde Park. What could it be? It was about the size of a small…

Façades and derrières

“Where have you been all these weeks? Don’t tell me you’ve been getting into mischief again!” “No, no, I’ve been behaving very decorously,” he assured her. “You have to in Bath — a devilish place!” (Georgette Heyer, Black Sheep) Several times during my visit, I heard the assertion that in Jane Austen’s day…

Nom de plumber

Plumbing the depths What most intrigued me about my visit to Bath’s Roman Baths was what I learned there about lead. The Romans used lead mined from the nearby Mendip Hills to line their bathing pools, as well as the conduits through which water was channeled from the sacred spring…

Out and about in Bath

Another postcard from Bath First of all, I had no idea that Bath was on the River Avon— or any river, for that matter. Jane Austen and Georgette Heyer had sadly misled me on this point! Or, more likely, they thought it so obvious that there was no need to mention…

Postcards from Bath

She disliked Bath, and did not think it agreed with her — and Bath was to be her home.  (Jane Austen, Persuasion) Destinating Bath Any lover of Jane Austen and Georgette Heyer must one day make a pilgrimage to Bath. Like so many others who have “destinated” Bath (an apt coinage I borrow from…