Lila Joy was born at home a week ago, all healthy and ruddy and dark-headed. I went for a visit Tuesday afternoon, and she was curled near my sister in a patch of sunlight on the bed, not so swollen as she'd been fresh out of the womb. It had been dark then, and the … Continue reading Looking for Some Light
A Story of Christmas Yet To Come Race Point is the easternmost I’ve ever been— in fact, it’s just about as eastward as you can get in the States, at the fingertip of Massachusetts’s arm. It was a strange thing to stand with all North America behind me, to face the horizon of sea, to … Continue reading Look East
In 2015, the International Dark Sky Association named the town of Westcliffe, Colorado a “Dark Sky Community.” In 2015, I was fourteen and had never heard of the International Dark Sky Association. I was slogging through the eighth grade, so I didn’t know that when I graduated high school, I’d take a trip to Westcliffe--- … Continue reading Dark Enough to See
The wildflowers grow small up on the Rockies. I looked up their biological names when I got home, and nearly all of them were "Dwarf" species. One alpine sunflower was even named, "Old Man of the Mountain," and isn't that perfect? The bluebells and yellow roses are just little, old Dwarves on a Lonely Mountain. … Continue reading Three Thoughts from the Mountain
I was thinking last week about that day in 2017 when we all looked up— when folks from Oregon clear down to South Carolina stopped their work to watch the total solar eclipse. It was August and steamy here. Our grandparents came over and sat by fans on the back patio, Dad grilled lunch, and … Continue reading Chasing the Storm
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.
Take a left at the end of our driveway, and you’re headed downhill, over the railroad tresses, then up to where Edgewood Road meets the Old Highway. You’ll follow Krinning’s fence, which is so old the trees have grown up through its wires — but before you start up the hill, there’s a place where … Continue reading On Walking
Folks say I take after my mom’s side of the family— 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
Someone gave me a composition notebook for my fourteenth birthday and told me to write blessings in it, to number them. I think the goal was 10,000, but I lost count after awhile, and the “thanksgivings” turned into little observations of the world around me: The house is quiet this morning. Elsie learned to roll … Continue reading The Things I’ve Seen
"Thank an artist today," someone said on Instagram last week, and I happened to be walking through the booths at the entrance to Silver Dollar City--- little closets of handmade brooms and paintings and pottery and baskets and woven rugs. The makers of each were dressed in their aprons and smocks, watching us and waiting. … Continue reading Thank the Artist
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