A month or so before we started dating, Jared offered to send me seeds in the mail. This surprised me, because I didn’t know many guys who planted gardens. I knew fewer who had an abundance of heirloom seeds on hand. When I thought about it, Jared was the only guy I’d ever talked to … Continue reading Seeds in the Mail
The moon, it just sat there tonight,mostly eaten by the old yearand its shadows,the year to come like its bright skinshining, burning away the rest.They say it's God's fingernail,but that's only what we can see of it.In reality, the whole underbelly is bulgingwith lighton the other side of our atmosphere.Anyway, it couldn't be that only … Continue reading New Year
I was down in Arkansas one evening last summer when the storm hit—a great clash in the heavens of solar wind sweeping off the sun’s surface and crashing into our atmosphere. The aurora borealis–a geomagnetic storm–was raging somewhere over the Canadian Rockies, but on a hot evening in Arkansas, things were quiet. We had a … Continue reading When the Northern Lights Came South
Not many people know about Mill Creek Mountain (at least, we didn't think they did, but I’ll get to that). I wouldn’t know it myself were it not for Don and Bo Sosebee, for Vesta Baptist Church in the valley below it, and for Jared, who took me there. Jared and I took a drive … Continue reading On Behalf of Mill Creek Mountain
A few days ago, I dug my sourdough starter out from the back of the basement fridge, lifted off the tea towel, and found it was black and hard as stone. I said, Of course. This would be the year my starter died. My biologist friend had told me just last week that it’s quite … Continue reading The Year My Sourdough Starter (Nearly) Died
I remember the way I described the Atlantic Ocean in my letters to Papa Larry from Cape Cod, when we walked the easternmost hem of Race Point Beach with the sea "rising and falling at our sides." But the Pacific, I now realize, does not "rise and fall" like some prim lady curtsying. It cracks … Continue reading Consider the Hummingbirds and the Seas
I'd hate to think that somedayI could be watching a soap operain a beach motelwhen,outside and across the street,there is a full-bellied moon risingover the crashing tideslike a great, golden peachin a storm-tossed orchard.I'd like to think that somedayI'll be like the man with the long camerawho'dsearched the Internet and watchedfrom his car for weeks,and … Continue reading I’d Hate to Think
This may sound strange, but these days, I pray often for honeybees. Jared is a beekeeper and a businessman, so much of his success lies in the hives tucked in the corner of his property—in their brood, their comb, and the flow of their nectar in spring. When I said “yes” to dating him, I … Continue reading Bless These Hives
The cicadas have come, like a thousand sirens in the trees. I was ten last time they emerged from the ground en masse, littering the grass and molting on every tree. I was still wearing my brothers’ basketball shorts and running around sticking the bug shells on peoples’ shirts after church. I remember how we … Continue reading Year of the Locust
May came—the green, bright end to the school year—and we’d shut our math books before noon, eat on the porch, then run to the swings or grab bats from the garage. The apple tree would blossom, the mowers would hum, and it would have been a shame to sit at our desks and miss it. … Continue reading By Wisdom is a Schoolhouse Built
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