My intention had been to attend a writing retreat, but I suddenly had the feeling that I was actually there to attend a labyrinth retreat.
Read moreMinding the Metaphors
Walking a labyrinth for the first time taught me to trust the path
Walking a labyrinth for the first time taught me to trust the path
My intention had been to attend a writing retreat, but I suddenly had the feeling that I was actually there to attend a labyrinth retreat.
Read moreIt’s the ragged patches that make us who we are
My parents weren’t car people, and they adopted a vehicle that only a bootlegger could love.
Read moreDecember light is the sun with a migraine
Technically, astronomically, the solstice lasts three days. Time stands still, sort of, before moving in the sun’s favor. So, technically, astronomically, I have two more days in which to dry wood and make a real fire.
Read moreNot all holiday mementos are joyful
Yes, he broke my heart, but I survived it. And the ornament was a symbol of that survival.
Read moreAn old friend is the best friend
It was the fall of 1970, and we were freshmen in high school, that tender, socially feverish age when your friendships are everything and time stands still around every relationship.
Read moreA forgotten novelist is remembered through music
Thomas Stribling won the Pulitzer Prize for a trilogy he wrote about Florence, Alabama. But when I was growing up in the 1960s, no one in Florence spoke of Stribling anymore.
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