Author Archives: morgan

Ibrahim chops wood with style and grace. Like a martial artist deep in practice or a dancer working his way through a choreographed routine, each movement is smooth and practiced. Ibrahim swings a straight handled ax with a long curved … finish reading Ibrahim’s Ax, Fetma’s Hands

                                      Building With Stone Here men build with stone. All around us are stone walls, steps, plazas, verandas and houses. Over the past … finish reading Building With Stone

Buyuk Cakil Days During the month of December, I am awakened each morning in this Turkish village at 05:00 by the muezzin’s call to prayer, a long wailing cry that penetrates my dreams, sometimes musical sometimes not, depending on who’s … finish reading Buyuk Cakil Days

Istanbul is a city of worn marble steps and crumbing stone walls, ramshackle wooden houses from the Ottoman era and the grandiose architecture of religion – in the streets the mingled scents of smoke from braziers, grilling meat, perfume from … finish reading Byzantium

As perennial nomads we travel light. Once we traveled with enough gear to equip an airborne battle group, but then we were on business and dragged with us the tools of our trade around the planet. We also had a … finish reading Traveling Light

During the past few months, as I walked by The Hotel San Andreas in Xlendi Harbor on my daily rounds I would glance through the window and refresh myself with a view of a proper hotel bar – polished wooden … finish reading The Bar That Never Was

The bright smiling girl flew away and the sky turned dull and gray. Birds fled the island. No song was heard. The shaman’s fire burned low and the tribe gathered by the sullen sea to watch for her return. It … finish reading The Dimming Of The Light

Steve Elvis Allen’s got the magic, the mojo, the voodoo, the power – the power to banish cares, transmute sadness to joy and fly people through the sky on his magic carpet. Steve is a musician, vocalist, performer and entertainer … finish reading His Mojo’s Working

Today we strolled along the Xlendi waterfront, then through the village, its streets almost empty now that the tourists have fled. I paused to talk with Phillip who has an art gallery and runs an English language book exchange while … finish reading Being Local