A framed print of Norman Rockwell’s Jo Writing in the Attic hangs in a prominent corner of our little home library, and not far from it, on a nearby bookshelf, rests an old abridged edition of Little Women, my childhood introduction to Louisa May Alcott’s beloved novel. I recall my first experience with the story…
This summer, I will snatch those hydrangea blooms before they’re spent, pluck them at their peak, and set them on my table in a pitcher, just like they do on Pinterest, Instagram, and HGTV. Clippers in hand, I don’t step outside looking to be spellbound, but is it possible to be ravished by a bush?…
As a lifelong reader and writer, I’ve always been attuned to language, perhaps the same way a painter is attuned to light and color, or a chef to texture and flavor. The words we use, their resonances and layers of meaning, deeply affect me, making something like reading a poem exhilarating, while sometimes making life…