Hannah, my chocolate Lab, a main character in Where The Trail Grows Faint, will be thirteen next month. Our forays into the woods have changed, although she still shows me that she wants to go by following me to the door in the late afternoon when I get up from...
Sometimes I remind myself of the Don Quixote of our yard. He’s a lunatic robin doing valiant battle through this long and glorious spring. I can’t believe he hasn’t killed himself yet. When morning is only a soft charcoal suggestion, he begins flying...
Do you order your books from Amazon? I often do. The independent bookshop in my small town closed long ago, and the university bookstore here focuses on student needs and best sellers. Amazon is less expensive. It’s convenient. Reviews are posted, and sometimes...
I hope the deer was the last thing Cory saw, not the pickup truck careening toward him, and I hope his eyes were wide and soft with pleasure. We’re here to teach our children and grandchildren, I know that. But sometimes we see things through their eyes and...
IN SEASON I need bullets, he said, only one left in the chamber, and headed toward the house when by chance I spotted it in the back field, near the woods that drop down to Rush Run, the creek like a vein through our farm, and shouted to him, though a shadow...