little seeds with deep roots
Someday I just might write a book about backyards. I took my very first steps in mine, and it was there that I blew out birthday candles, taught myself to swim, and made countless wishes on starry, starry summer nights. I even first heard the sound of my own heartbeat right there in the oasis … Continue reading My Backyard
Every day when I pick up my 14-year-old daughter from school, we crank up the radio for a quick game of “Name the Artist.” I pause most often on what I have defined as the classics from the late 60s, 70s and 80s. The rules are simple: she cannot procure help from her cellphone. Yet … Continue reading Playlist
Memory can be quite peculiar. On most days I can’t tell you what I ate for breakfast, yet I can give you the phone number to Airport and Intown Taxi, my frequent ride home from late nights in Chapel Hill, if you should ever need it. I don’t know where I often drop my cell … Continue reading Metamorphosis
Mice scare me. The tinier, the more monsterous. The smallest shadow out of the corner of my eye, whether it be scurrying across my kitchen floor or in an open garden field, will put me in a tailspin. My squeals often rival those of my three-year-old. I run. I seek higher ground. And I wait. … Continue reading Awakenings
I have long been a dreamer of dreams. As a young girl I remember a particular dream of swimming in our backyard pool with my friends and a porcupine. Yes, a porcupine. Now I don’t know if porcupines are good swimmers or not, but this one doggy-paddled with ease right beside me. I loved my … Continue reading Dreams
I love handwritten notes and letters. Sweet sentiments written on birthday cards, the reds and greens and glitters of Christmas cards sent from near and far, notes attached to beautiful flower bouquets, and even random scribbles on concert tickets and bubblegum wrappers all have long been sentimental. My favorite notes and letters have always been … Continue reading Letters
Fields of Poppy 