The Long Lesson
There is a particular kind of snow that arrives only when the air is cold enough to ring like glass. It falls in a thin, airy veil—so light you could almost believe it hesitated on the way down. This morning it lay across the yard like a blessing whispered rather than spoken, barely covering the…
Where in the Circle?
Mr. Rogers once said, “When I was a boy, and I would see scary things in the news, my mother would say to me, ‘Look for the helpers. You will always find people who are helping.’” I have been holding those words close this week—like a smooth stone in my pocket—because the news from Minneapolis,…
Walking into Weather
This morning, before the sun had quite decided whether it would bother rising, I glanced toward the basin behind the old general store. Yesterday, the water was still moving—a quiet, pewter-colored mirror breathing in slow ripples. Overnight, the temperature dropped like a stone, and the world held its breath long enough for ice to knit…
In My Words 