Questions for Simplicity I feel cluttered inside. Emily P. Freeman writes lists to clear her mind, and that’s what’s got me thinking about it. Freeman is very tal...
Sparrows A white-breasted hawk has been perched on the backyard burn pile for the better part of an hour. He’s waiting for a little rodent, burrow...
For the New Year Here is the future, on the eve of our newest present. It is helpful to come back to this again and again, and maybe most especially on th...
Learning to Pray This is the way of it, my friend – if I have told you this is a blue moon blog, then you may assuredly expect another post hot on its hee...
“Because I Could Not Stop” and One Good Thing Really, this blog is only updated once in a blue moon. I make it all kinds of sweet nothing promises, but blue moon it is. Though perhaps...
The Spurned Word and the Foundation for Everything There is a spider in the kitchen window, and Cody has named him Peter. Primarily, I think he has done it to create some kind of sympathy ...
Tales of Belonging My husband speaks in metaphors like a second tongue. Not the idioms you heard growing up. Long, epic tales. More than once he has had me ...
Noticing the Resident Bee and Aiming for the Chopping Block The bee nestles into the Hosta’s lily, drinking up Noah’s newest word, “nectar.” He climbs the cream piston and momentarily disappears be...