Before the Maples Notice
The black walnut trees are among the first to tell us that summer is loosening its hold. Before the maples begin their red and orange declarations, before the oaks turn russet and the hills seem to catch fire, the walnuts have already begun their quiet work of departure. Their long leaves, each made of many…
When the Waxwings Come
They arrived without announcement. I was sitting on the front porch, coffee cooling in my hands, when the air itself seemed to quicken. At first there was no sound—only a subtle shift in the light, as if an unseen curtain had opened and closed. Then the tree was full of birds. The mountain ash, heavy…
A Prayer Without Words
The morning did not announce itself gently. It came beneath a steel sky, vast and low, its grayness gathered as though the whole horizon had been hammered into one unbroken sheet. Storm clouds moved with the solemn purpose of something ancient. They darkened the fields, pressed close to the road, and made the familiar landscape…
