By Tom Clifford I am not a food critic. I could never admonish a naughty carrot or petulant potato or…
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By Tom Clifford Prime time. Gathering clouds bending the light as the sun calls it a day. Night approaches unapologetically.…
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 Sometimes the utterances, and I have to be careful here, of not exactly lies but untruths can…
By Tom Clifford There are images that remain etched in the corners of your mind. They can be of momentous…
