May 17th, 2014, 10am

It was 17.8°C with scattered clouds. The breeze was gentle.

How distinct is the border between the places we call home and everywhere else? For me , returning to my childhood home involves crossing a body of water. It’s not until I step on the ferry in Woods Hole that I feel like I’m finally coming home. There is something about that time on the water between the mainland and the island that smooths the jagged edges of the day to day.

Shu, Cecilia, Samantha and Christine said thanks.

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Michael Silva

a somewhat undisciplined existence.

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