Observations, Poems, and Essays by Francesca Hampton. I am a 60 something Californian, former world traveler of the back packing variety, a Buddhist, a writer, photographer, and teacher. Sunday, May 22, 2016. Ah, who was it coloured that little frock, my child, and covered. Your sweet limbs with that little red tunic? You have come out in the morning to play in the courtyard,. In the end it is this.

Close encounters inside a remote northern California bookstore. Saturday, February 21, 2015. Walking under the newly blossomed plum trees, watching the happy bees of this false spring, I found myself recalling a fragment of a poem I wrote maybe 30 years ago. The words are impermanence alone is fixed .

Seattle to San Francisco May 2015. Thursday, 18 June 2015. For a special treat, exit via the San Gregorio General Store. We resolved to scoot east, through the fog, to get over the bridge before the Friday afternoon traffic, to be positioned to get comfortably to the airport at the end of the day. Heading for Half Moon Bay, south, down the coast from the city. And took that as a good sign. We were pretty well camera-ed out.