When I looked in your eyes I didn't see fear or questions about the war--- But of course! I saw the tree above us reflected and growing toward the sky.
For Little Bear
When I looked in your eyes I didn't see fear or questions about the war--- But of course! I saw the tree above us reflected and growing toward the sky.
March winds have torn the plastic on our little greenhouse, so I clomped out in my rubber boots last Tuesday to reinforce what I could. I needed the staple gun from the shed, so I fit the key in the lock and pushed the door open. My eyes widened to the darkness and ran up … Continue reading The Snake in the Shed
I remember reading where C.S. Lewis and his friends (J.R.R. Tolkien among them) would sometimes walk a daysโ journey across the English countryside together, stop at a pub for beer and rest, then take up their walking sticks again the next morning. โIt was an idyllic way to spend three or four days. Footpaths were … Continue reading Writers On Walking
Take a left at the end of our driveway, and youโre headed downhill, over the railroad tresses, then up to where Edgewood Road meets the Old Highway. Youโll follow Krinningโs fence, which is so old the trees have grown up through its wires โ but before you start up the hill, thereโs a place where … Continue reading On Walking
My friend who shares my name, Bethany Rose, called me last Tuesday morning from somewhere up in Minnesota, where she was bundled and walking her Great Pyrenees named Shiloh. โWeโre experiencing a warm front,โ she said. โItโs twenty-five degrees today.โ I was planting a tray of lettuce on my patio in Missouri, because we were … Continue reading The Long Winter
Folks say I take after my momโs side of the familyโ that I have the Latham nose and smile. But Dad and I are alike in a lot of ways too, though they tend to be unseen things, like tendencies. For one, Dad and I both crave a good, stretching view of the horizon. Since … Continue reading The Hill
I take walks, and the wind is the January kind. It makes the leaves chatter high in the trees and rattles the empty trash cans at the end of each driveway. The earth is brown, save for refrozen snow lining the ditches and furrows. Now is the only time in the year when I can … Continue reading Selah
The swing set oak is forty years old โ taller than our maples, cedars, even its pin oak siblings. Mr. Adams planted it when our neighborhood was still his field and my mom was a kid who ran through it. Planting a tree is always an act of faith, but itโs also a selfless thing … Continue reading By Faith, Plant Sequoias
I spent the night in a forest once and filtered my water from between two rocks, where a stream got caught and pulled through, bubbling up on the other side. It was just the place to rinse my fingers or fill my bottle. Streams flow down, and we use that phrase for grace too, because … Continue reading Grace that Roars
I wrote a letter to my friend, Sarah, last week and told her Iโm suffering from Gardening Shame. There are weeds in every box, and I havenโt re-mulched the paths, so black tarp shows through like the gardenโs underwear. My tomato plants won't take to the soil and stand limp. Zoysia grass creeps in and … Continue reading Gardening Shame