The Hour has Grown Late
I had been on this planet for less than a single turn around its sun, when I knew that my predecessor had fallen to...
Farmer James Goes to Town
Farmer James had been bitter ever since his pigs had all succumbed to an epidemic that swept through the heartland and–like the hand of...
A Sudden Walk
At this hour on a Sunday evening, I would ordinarily have finished the dishes, locked the front door and settled in with a book...
Stories of the Borderlands
Three books I’ve been reading in the past week each invoke, in different ways, the borders that show up in life. Earlier this week,...
Pinocchio and the Lost Kitten
Have you ever dreamed of running across a book that would express more fully than you have ever encountered what it feels like to...
Is Silence the Answer?
Silence doesn’t echo itself. It doesn’t create copies of itself. Silence waits for us to slow down enough that we can hear the deep...
Wending Which Way
The two lanes of traffic streaming past each other on roads and interstates seem unrelated to each other, except in the sense that some...
Words Can Harm or Help
Don’t get me wrong. I love words. Sometimes words feel like the inhalations and exhalations that mark the flowing stream of life. The time...
Putting it Back Together
Recently at an SOS meeting, I was on the edges of an interesting conversation. I don’t want to invoke the details because we promise...
Life’s First Encounters
Last week, my mother would have been 104 years old. “Would have” because she died 32 years ago. I don’t know the exact day...