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Across the road from my grandmother’s house, before the early 1980s (when condominiums called “The Meadows” were built), there were woods. Beyond the trees, there was a small clearing with just one tree: a very old oak. After the little clearing...
Some things happened to me. I did some stuff. Some of it I blog about and some of it won’t ever be written. It happened, I did it, and sometimes I think about it. When things around me are… dark. When things that once mattered to me begin to seem...
Two days ago, I was teasing the tree out front, the one by the pond: “All of the other trees in the neighbourhood have gotten their pretty colours in… now don’t you feel left out?”
That evening, on the way home from Holyoke, I told Ken that I...
A little Lord Byron, one of my favourite poems of all time:
The kiss, dear maid ! thy lip has left
Shall never part from mine,
Till happier hours restore the gift
Untainted back to thine.
Thy parting glance, which fondly beams,
An equal...