Adam is

0 degrees 21 minutes N
130 degrees 32 minutes W

"An atoll is a group of motus."

Where is Adam?

Nuku Hiva bound at:
2 degrees 48 minutes N
128 degrees 3 minutes W

Lunch for the church ladies after a trip to the dentist. That's what I call good clean fun.

The other day, I had lunch with my grandmother. She told me:

I was only about four or five years old, and the boys were throwing bottles. My mama had told those boys never to throw bottles down there. And I was playing under the staircase and I cut myself. Look at that, Jess, the scar's just about gone. I guess I nearly cut my finger off. And my mama, she'd told them never to go up there with those bottles. I was just a little girl. About five, no about four years old. You see I was using a milk bottle as a doll, and I cut myself. About cut my finger off. I fell down, and the bottle broke. Well, it looks like the scar's finally just about gone.

And the scar is just about gone. It's been there for ninety years now, a long thin line across her index finger, and it's just about gone.

If anyone cares, there's a lot of noise in my head lately. There's a kind of tinnitus. Where is Adam, what is he doing, is he alive, when is he going to be there. How many times my sister and I would ask that question, riding in the car. Are we there yet? There's a noise like heavy metal played at low volume, that's the sound of I need to BE somebody. I've got to get some WORK done. Sit at my comPUter. FInish something. GOD. There's another sound, which is sometimes like static and sometimes like a stream flowing over moss-covered rocks, making little pools where tiny fish dart and catch the light, a breeze blowing through the sycamores, and that's the sound the baby makes.

Where is Adam?

Eating lentils at degrees, 51 minutes N, 125 degrees, 38 minutes W. Twelve hundred miles from his destination, with the wind coming out of the SW.

We check out the zoo. The mother orangutang has wrapped herself in a sheet and is sitting motionless, looking like a pile of laundry, in a corner of the enclosure. I understand this.

Listening to some kind of weird mariachi by kids, for kids in the Greenville library.

Playgrounds are a new pleasure.

Lush evening in a Greenville, SC, park documented by my brother-in-law Dennis's Lush evening in a Greenville, SC, park documented by my brother-in-law Dennis's iPhone.