When I was a kid, my favorite play-pretend game was Lost on a Desert Island, and my adult home is not so different from my childhood fantasy. Except that it’s decidedly not a desert, tucked into the famously wet Cascades: mosses and lichens, conifers and hardwoods, salmon and eagles. Not the stuff of Robinson Crusoe, this. You’d freeze in Tarzan garb. It’s not really an island either, just a small valley separated from the outside world by steep jagged mountains, a whole lot of them, and long skinny lake, deep and cold and treacherously windy.

Winter Running

Running in Winter

by Ana Maria Spagna January 22, 2013 Wet Wool

No one should have to run in winter. Let’s be clear about that. Skiing should be enough. But. There’s rain on snow and ice too loud and slush and sometimes bare ground on the shoulder seasons. So. There’s the bike trainer in the living room next to the stereo. There are sit-ups and yoga tapes. […]

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Crazy-Eye Season

Crazy-Eye Season

by Ana Maria Spagna July 3, 2012 Wet Wool

It’s the time of year when the phrase “doe-eyed” takes on all new meaning.

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Driving South in a Buick

Driving South in a Buick

by Ana Maria Spagna April 17, 2012 Wet Wool

Outside Winthrop, whitetail and ravens compete for rotten crabapples as they drop into snow. In town, fences cage unpruned trees.

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Occupy Main Street

Occupy Main Street

by Ana Maria Spagna March 1, 2012 Wet Wool

The stakes seem so high, and the changes inevitable, but I want to believe we are the bosses of it, at least a little of it.

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When Snow Turns to Rain

When Snow Turns to Rain

by Ana Maria Spagna December 21, 2011 Wet Wool

Remember, we’ll say someday, when we used to shovel snow.

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Close to the Source

Close to the Source

by Ana Maria Spagna October 18, 2011 Wet Wool

Fall is for firewood.

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When the Walls Come Tumbling Down

When the Walls Come Tumbling Down

by Ana Maria Spagna August 18, 2011 Wet Wool

The idea of a dam coming down sounds momentous, but it shouldn’t be.

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Face the Camera

Face the Camera

by Ana Maria Spagna July 7, 2011 Wet Wool

The film crew arrived the day after my partner, Laurie, was given the heads up, not a warning exactly, but a familiar blunt blow: her job might be on the chopping block.

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Promise of Spring

Promise of Spring

by Ana Maria Spagna May 19, 2011 Wet Wool

A title is a promise, or so I hear in writing circles. If that’s so, then this one, I’m telling you, has been broken for a long time.

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