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Columns
 Blue River by Georgia O'Keeffe In the fall, as the landscape withdraws into stark lines and the coming cold breathes brittle into my bones, I mourn time’s inevitable creep forward into darkness. In very ancient eras, time was endless, like a wheel, and therefore hopeful. Its circle of birth and death always led to rebirth as it marked the seasons, the years, and the generations. Then, as science ascended, time became a mathematical concept, merely a dimension, often depicted as an arrow unstoppably propelled into the future. Time was captured and stuffed into clocks to regulate our lives in factories and offices. And so, time was also transformed in my own life. When I was a child, time was magic, a beloved friend who gave gifts at Christmas and birthdays and stretched out happy summer afternoons until I was too tired to play. Now, time has become simply the grid of each week’s over-burgeoning calendar page, keeping me up at night wondering how I will accomplish everything when morning comes too quickly. Continue reading → Popularity: 9% [?] Columns
 River Rocks II by Donna Geissler My younger sisters and I used to walk in the shallow river by my childhood home. In secret. Mother buzzed off to work, and again I was put in charge. At eleven, I had finger-wagging and maternal sighs down cold. Three and four years older than my sisters, not only was I taller, but here first: I held the court. I can’t remember whose idea it was to go down to the river that first time, but boredom often inspires mischief in children. Continue reading → Popularity: 7% [?] Columns
 Collage with Compass Where are you going? In what direction are you facing at this very moment? Are you gazing into the eyes of the dawn as it crescendos in the east? Are you looking toward the North Star that guided your seafaring ancestors so many years ago? In this day of GPS and Mapquest, direction is less essential to survival than in past times. Survival once depended on knowing that north lead to fresh water or that east was away from the tiger den. Many people are not consciously aware of their relationship to the Earth’s directions. Continue reading → Popularity: 15% [?] Columns
 Woman Baking Loaves of Bread and Biscuits by Nina Leen My grandmother taught me how to bake proper biscuits before my tenth birthday. She lived in our town, and I visited her regularly, often sleeping over at her house on my own. Cooking and cards were our pastimes. Gummy, as I came to call her at the age of two, came from a time with butter churns and trains and hats and gloves. Her biscuit recipe was no different. An old recipe, it was written on an unlined card with fountain ink, complete with blots where the pen rested just a second too long. This card would prove to be one of my favorite parts of the baking process. She’d place it on the sill above her sink, and then put the simplest of ingredients on the counter. Gummy measured without spoons or cups while I stood in silent awe beside her on the kitchen stool. Continue reading → Popularity: 11% [?] Columns
 Greetings from Brooklyn, New York One Two Popularity: 14% [?] Columns
 Joshua Trees and Star Trails in a Twilight Sky over California by Tim Laman When spring arrives in New England, every acre burgeons into chaos as millions of spores and microscopic one-celled wonders, plants, fungi, animals, and birds emerge from an icy sleep into manic activity. Every year I marvel at this emergence of boundless life for a week or two until precise patterns of rivers and fields take shape. I experienced very much the same joy and astonishment when I first felt my unborn son move, when I realized that another being had somehow come into existence in the midst of the everyday disorder of my ordinary life. Surely these miracles cannot be, but they are. Over this winter, I read books about the latest mathematical and scientific discoveries. With the world in its uncertain state, I sought sure, simple, and unchangeable truths. Imagine my astonishment when I discovered that in the thirty years since I studied these subjects in college, the chaos of spring and rebirth has overtaken the orderly and mechanical perspectives of Euclid and Newton. Continue reading → Popularity: 16% [?] Poetry
 An Ivory Netsuke of a Rat In his pocket he keeps He calls his rat In school he Later, a gift He searches the house,
Author’s Bio: Popularity: 10% [?] Poetry
 Doe in the Monastery Garden, 1912 Sun and shadow dapple Munching vines, your young one looks up at you Do you know this is the first day of hunting season? But after you munch I watch as you three cross the brook,
Author’s Bio: Popularity: 10% [?] Poetry
 Deer First light and the deer come floating
Author’s Bio: Popularity: 10% [?] Poetry
 Northern Cardinal, New Braunfels, Hill Country, Texas, USA Your crimson vestment my stubborn beg your vermilion than fire-and- Only Your spirit Fiery tongue – Words orbit me like transcribe them
Author’s Bio:  Popularity: 10% [?] |
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