The air is bitter, its winter wind brutal, and barren trees feel the cold not only in their branches, but in their trunks as well, creaking to their core. The tamed timbers of the house creek too as the wind outside thunders by like a …
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Columns. Commentaries. Contemplations.
The air is bitter, its winter wind brutal, and barren trees feel the cold not only in their branches, but in their trunks as well, creaking to their core. The tamed timbers of the house creek too as the wind outside thunders by like a …
Read More“Listening to the sounds of silence” in the Philadelphia Inquirer (August 14, 2016). The sound of stone and gravel crushing under tires signaled my escape was at hand. The small lot sat empty, as it usually is, and the trailhead stood in front of me, waiting …
Read More“On the lookout for Ole Snappy” in the Philadelphia Inquirer (September 13, 2015).0 A late summer morning, and the lake is still. The paddle pulls us forward as we glide across its surface, our kayak’s ripples the only sound on this glistening mirror to the heavens. …
Read MoreI look left, then right, and left again. The road is clear and, pushing pedal toward the floor, I pull onto the winding road. As I accelerate into the turn, a hawk merges with me, flying a few yards both above and ahead of my …
Read MoreThe sun beat down on the growing cluster of black-eyed Susan as each flower below stretched skyward, a sea of yellow and black hoping to touch the fiery heaven above. Like looking into a kaleidoscope when gazed at too intently and too long, the colors …
Read MoreIf there is ground in heaven, I believe it must be covered with a thick layer of fallen pine needles. If there is music in heaven, I believe it must be the wind brushing against the land as spirits travel through the sky. If there …
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