June 6, 2017, it was chill enough to light a fire. Five days later, near record heat….
the little blue engine that could
Cross posting under Daily Grace and les collines, because the 15-year old engine of this auto ode is so integral to both….
late winter, clarity
There is something that happens with the light around the time of the equinox, when the angle and distance between sun and earth produce exceptionally stunning, crisp stark reliefs of light and shadow….
the grace of Joe Biden
This is a post I intended to write many months ago– it was on a list of planned topics I sent to someone in November, with the parenthetical comment: non-political! That I finally got to writing it Inauguration weekend is a chance irony. But wow, what a weekend that was….
auld lang syne to Epiphany
Hold on to those horses, we have a boatload of ground to cover. Because I never met a metaphor I didn’t like to mix.
Such a year, such an end of year….
grace note of love
In music, though often referred to as embellishment or ornament, the grace note is a pause between notes that is important, even key to pacing the rest of the piece. It is like the pause for breath in a recitation, or the words you choose not to say, or those that get edited out. For me as a writer, the silence has always mattered as much as the words. Rather than a searching for words to fill the blank page, writing for me feels more like sculpting, where from a big block of language, I chip and shape….
burning it down
A few weeks ago I was awakened before dawn by screaming smoke detectors. Like literally, they are the photoelectric kind that emit screeching beeps with a voice intoning “FireFireFire” in a way that makes you both want to run the hell away and take a baseball bat to them as you leave. They do the trick: no way are you going to sleep through….
peace bridge
Traveling across New York State to Toronto last weekend brought me to the Peace Bridge, one of three spanning the Niagara and up river from the Falls….
les collines in Malawi
The bittersweet high point of our week came from this photo, taken some months ago before a gathering in Malawi where les collines Cider Sage Jelly (lower forefront, center!) was among the dishes of honor to be sampled. …
it don’t hurt like it used to
Yeah another line from a country song here. A good one, yup. It Don’t Hurt Like It Used To, Billy Currington.
This song, its feelings and lyrics, has been hanging out in my periphery as I approached and then backed off writing the past week plus. It’s about a lost romance, of course. For me, it evokes some other stuff. But whatever I had to say, first I had to get through…duh duh duh… Mother’s Day. Or shall we say, the M day….
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