Mark Hinshaw

Italy is returning to normal, which is a relief. But now the country, as many places, has to figure out how not to return to the normal of harmful, soulless tourism.

Sometimes it’s the thinnest of membranes that separate us from each other. This came to mind when I was contemplating our dramatic change of shopping habits over the last...

The First Wave of Covid hit like a freight train. Then came a second wave, even worse. But the government has adapted and neighbors have turned out to help small businesses.

The practices that seemed dramatically innovative in the U.S. have been in use for centuries here. One simply does not build inside, or near, a floodplain.

While most of the old Weyerhaeuser campus in Federal Way could well be demolished and replaced with pedestrian commercial uses, this building could instead be re-purposed and acquire a new life.

These ambitious waterfront projects normally deploy the resources of large cities. Even then, as in Seattle, these efforts are littered with setbacks, political stumbles, litigation, and misguided public-sector largesse.

The couple is determined to make the best of the limitations imposed during the pandemic. With performance venues closed, they have turned to the medium of the internet.

Although there is a modest ant-vax movement in Italy, it doesn’t seem to feed itself on fantastical conspiracy theories about Bill Gates’ plans for world domination, 5G towers, and nefarious nanotechnologies. Since Italians appreciate their medical system, they trust their doctors to offer sound advice.

We are not homebound. We get all our daily needs met by the shops within our village. There is none of the toilet paper shelf-clearing that appears to be happening in the U.S. again. Deliveries happen every day; we have noticed no big change in the availability of goods and services.

In fact, this kind of community was built in many places in North America in the late 19th and early 20th centuries. They were called Streetcar Suburbs.