The moist air is already sticking to your arms at 7:00 AM, the pores in your armpits twitching like a horse in a starting gate.
As the details around the insurrection settled into my chest like a bad cold, I realized it had shattered my belief that regardless of our political leanings, we were all Americans who held some things sacred.
The American Dream is alive and well just around the corner, a short walk from Trouts Farm.
Nineteen days into voluntary isolation, I reach to the back of the freezer for some ginger and discover two bags of sweet pepper, one green, and one red. It’s Christmas! Like many trapped in this stagnant lull, I have put on some weight. The more I focus on making do, the faster I eat down […]
I’m sipping coffee on the back porch, listening to the crickets and the frogs. Their pitch is slurred, slowed by a drop in temperature and punctuated with crow calls. Our crepe myrtles shed golden droplets, like lazy shooting stars, always just outside my field of vision. I stare at one leaf, twirling madly on its […]