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“They’re acting like a$$es.” This is what I told my husband in a quick, condemning whisper during the few seconds our four kids were more than an arm’s length away from us on the hiking trail. I’m not proud of my words, it’s not language I use often, especially...
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It is only in framed space that beauty blooms. – Anne Lindbergh The haiku settles for doing, as I read it anyway, one very simple but crucial thing – it tries to put a frame around the moment. It simply frames a moment. Of course, as soon as you put a frame...
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“If you can segregate yourself enough, that you don’t get to experience all the different cultures, and people, and beauty… then really, you’re not just missing out on that personally, you’re missing out . . . on a piece of the image of...
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Isaiah (age 8) has taken up baking. He bakes like a happy drunk, tripping around the kitchen, leaving a trail of small disasters in his wake. He dives into each recipe like a boulder dropped into a pond, no caution, all energy. We may or may not have all the...
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Anger isthe bastard child,black sheep,danger to the flock. This I know,for I’ve been told. But, by night,when the world is still,I slip out the back doorto find anger huddledin darknessat the yard’s edge. “What do you want?” I...
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A Purification by Wendell Berry At the start of spring I open a trench in the ground. I put into it the winter’s accumulation of paper, pages I do not want to read again, useless words, fragments, errors. And I put into it the contents of the outhouse: light of...
