Uncategorized
I stood on a steep, wooded trail eating raspberries by the handful. In that moment I was only my outstretched arm, greedy fingers prying plump berries from large clusters. I was eyes trained on the color red hiding beneath green leaves; I was only a gaping...
Uncategorized
(this is the view out the front of our house, the old garage I’m writing about is out back) My oldest son runs shouting into the house, eyes round like dinner plates. “We found an opening that leads underground!” he exclaims and I picture a doorway...
Uncategorized
What does the bud feel the day before its opening? Deep desire for the light and the anticipation of dancing in the wind. And what of the bud that fails to open, standing closed along-side its star-burst sisters? Maybe she sleeps still, content with the dream of...
Uncategorized
(one of the reading rooms at Dickinson College Library) Today I’m re-posting this piece from the “archives” which was written back in 2012, right when I first began blogging. The twins were not quite one then and my older two were four...
Uncategorized
(Photo Source here, CC License.) Let’s just say it’s, oh, I don’t know . . . 90 degrees in the building that houses the high school’s swimming pool. And humid. Yes, very humid, like a sauna or a spa, although you’ll want to get the very idea of any...
Uncategorized
Reading in the morning, I am distracted by the light that falls across the page, across the room, climbing down the wall as the sun rises. Somewhere, a neighbor’s rooster crows, as I carry my little boy toward the bathroom where he stands ...
