Monthly Archives: May 2015

Sometimes I Know Why I Live in the Country

Night-driving, late May a two-lane country road, the windows down: blinded by fireflies’ staccato flashes, breathing honeysuckle sweetness, the dark so close I can touch it, your arm warm against mine.

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Green Revolution

The struggle for domination has been joined again: I, the gardener, wrest the weeds out of flower beds, piling them in green heaps to be taken to the compost pile or to the chickens who will scratch and tear at … Continue reading

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Those Who Went Before

The soil is dry, dusty, tan silt that parts easily at the insistence of my hoe. With each stroke I carve a straight-line row, two inches deep, that will receive the bean and corn seeds I sow. I am looking, … Continue reading

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One Thought Leads to Another

An ad on the radio for Louis L’Amour books, leatherbound, reminded me of my third son who read all of the series when he was younger, the West, romance and danger and chivalry page after page and then I recalled how … Continue reading

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Take Off the Gloves and Live

Gloves are not meant for garden work. How can you feel the plants, the dirt, the wetness of the soil with glove-protected hands? Your hands must be stained, laced with tiny cuts from briars, black with good garden dirt. You need … Continue reading

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Evening Vignette

Sunset gold on lichened stone, the smell of lilacs, honeysuckle. A white church on a quiet hill, a grave with two urns of pink roses: One man stands alone with bowed head, hat in hand. Across the mowed cemetery his shadow … Continue reading

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Park and Ride

He pulls into the park-and-ride, his maroon Oldsmobile covered in dust, the muffler rattling faintly, radio tuned to gospel music. He is smiling. Easy to see he is excited, and I wonder why. No young’un, this guy. Gray, thin hair wisps … Continue reading

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