Minding the Metaphors
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.
Essays
Glorious Patchwork
My parents weren’t car people, and they adopted a vehicle that only a bootlegger could love.
Winter Solstice
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.
The Christmas Ornament
Yes, he broke my heart, but I survived it. And the ornament was a symbol of that survival.
The Conversation That Continues
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.
The Pulitzer Prize
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.
