William Ricci

Tag: home

  • Short Story – Woman with Buggy

    This short story is my first serious attempt at something other than poetry, and a desire to share with everyone. Since our visit to Iceland was in 2004, this story has been in the works for 8 years. It is based on people we met and cultural places that we visited. Below is part 1…

  • Post Traveling Thoughts

    Now that I am settled back at home and my customary headache from traveling and flying has subsided, I have a few thoughts and observations.  This was my third trip to Alaska, and the first with Patricia.  My first two were with guided services (Exposure Alaska, and Alaska Mountain Guides) and involved hiking, kayaking, glacier…

  • Summer on 41st

    Stretching eager fingers, ready to continue on a new piece with the working title of “A Season in Hell”.  Not very original, however, a tribute to one of my favorite writers Arthur Rimbaud.  I look over the empty streets from my office.  The unimpeded sun heats black tar and the day has the hazy look…

  • Home

    I have lived in MN all of my 38 years.  It is home.  Family is here.  Memories and history exist in every nook and cranny.  It is home.  For better or worse, there are reminders everywhere. But, what truly defines home?  Is it physical reminders?  Is it by sight as you drive past landmarks and…

  • Alaska – Arriving in Haines

    With an Alaskan White Ale at my side, I leave here, Saint Paul, MN, and land back in time: 2010 in Haines, AK. Emerging from the 4 passenger plane from Juneau, a fine mist washes across my face and raven calls permeate the surrounding air. A minute or two passes before I finally accept that…

  • Story of Joline – Continued

    I have been writing more about Joline, continuing the story with her coming home, and being alone for the first time in years.  I will post this tomorrow, with photos.

  • Home

    To know my place here, the culmination of past, present, and now – requires awareness of my roots, where I came from, the events and experiences dictating the path. I now accept the path I chose, each bump, each divergement, even the occasions when the path ended at the blue cliffs overlooking the tumultuos waters,…