Sands of Time

Every fall, my two brothers and I take off for a boys’ weekend somewhere by the water. We’re in our 60s now, and while we like to think there are plenty more trips ahead, we feel the sand slipping a little faster each year—not knowing when the last grain will fall. This shot holds something of what those weekends mean to us: food, drinks, conversation and good old reminiscing with laughter. It’s a quiet kind of joy to know that someone outside our little circle—the MFA creative writing cohort at American University—appreciated this image too, and immortalized it on page 69 of Folio, volume 40, issue 1, 2025.