They looked dead. Larvae clustered together in a 3-inch diameter plastic container. Part of a butterfly-rearing kit sent as a gift to our classroom. A few colleagues and I carefully examined the container as I held it up to the sunlit window in the front office. No movement from the little critters. We hypothesized that their… Continue reading Painted Lady
“You can clear the table first.” Mom sipped the last drop of her tea and gazed approvingly at her solution to the daily cryptogram in the Evening Bulletin. Cradling in my arms two bottles of salad dressing and a container of Parmesan cheese, I swiftly walked to the refrigerator. A lone robin sang earnestly in the… Continue reading Honeysuckle on the Wrought-iron Gate
Last Thursday evening, at dusk, a hawk came to us. I was startled by a reverberating thud against our living room sliding door. I heard it from the bedroom where I was folding some clothes. “What was that?” I gasped, trying to fight the tension building up in my muscles. “What was that?” echoed my… Continue reading Tell Me, Hawk, What to See.
Once upon a piece of fabric– cotton muslin to be exact–there lived a story. This story lived alone, but every now and then it invited some memories over for adventure and excitement. One day the memories came back to the story with all kinds of treasure. There were bags of assorted remnants that glimmered, sparkled,… Continue reading Once Upon a Piece of Fabric
“It’s beautiful this morning. Are you going to bring your coffee along with you?” he asked. “I have to drink it here first. I lost the top of my travel mug,” she replied. To which he replied, brightly, “Can’t you just pour it into one of the tall mugs and enjoy it that way, while… Continue reading Tree Swallows, Garden Beans, and You and Me
Late this afternoon, I felt ready to write about some big feelings. I wanted to confront the pervasive conflict that can so often show up as an uninvited guest at a family holiday get-together. Then I stepped back and reflected on celebrating a beautiful morning, just a few hours earlier, filled with wonder, gratitude, and community.… Continue reading A Turning Point on a Sunday Afternoon
Funny how it transformed into a bake shop. It was a car dealership for as long as I could remember. Its expansive facade boasting a showroom of the latest Buick LaSabres stared at us whenever we ascended the dank, dismal staircase at Chelten Avenue train station. “Come on, if you’re interested you have to call Wimbly this… Continue reading Bake Shop, Day Shift