Baltimore native Ann Schlott Hillers spends the summer in Bali with her three young sons and, despite fears, embraces the underwater world of the Indonesian Sea.
When I was in my twenties and childless, I dreamed a lot about drowning. Not my own drowning, but that of my niece, Maggie, my older sister’s eldest daughter. First, she scaled a tall Victorian hotel whose roof was covered in ice. As she reached the peak, I scrambled up the roof only to arrive as she was sliding down the other side, falling a mile into a lake of ice below. I tried to grab her dress, but she was slippery and fast. And gone. Read More →