By Tom Clifford Prime time. Gathering clouds bending the light as the sun calls it a day. Night approaches unapologetically.…
Browsing: Columns
By Tom Clifford I am not a seafarer. I do not have sea legs. I have two, very grateful for…
By Tom Clifford More than a century has passed since the guns fell silent on the 11thhour of the 11th…
By Tom Clifford Walking from Nettle Bay to Marigot requires a dexterity of step, more associated with a disco dancer…
By Tom Clifford Some wizened sage said, or should have said, centuries ago that if a man ever doubted his…
By Tom Clifford I had the good fortune to experience a day in both Philipsburg and Marigot. Consequently, I have…
By Tom Clifford Admittedly, as expeditions go it was a modest affair. It was just me and my backpack. No…
By Tom Clifford You’d almost feel sorry for the car drivers. The only way to travel on this enchanted island…
By Tom Clifford Sometimes the utterances, and I have to be careful here, of not exactly lies but untruths can…
By Tom Clifford A rite of passage is an important moment, measuring as it does a new stage. It manifests…
