Requiem for Ink

It’s Easter. There’s a blizzard blowing past my windows and piling up snow against the back door.

Or, love in the time of contagion.

Fleeing the cold reality of February in Minnesota for a week at a nice hotel with a beach and a pool is something I haven’t done in years…

I attended the funeral of a piano tuner last week.

Three of the four candles are burned low in the Advent wreath. The fourth stands at full height, unlit.

The coming of winter is like the old saying about putting a frog in a pot and turning up the heat so slowly he never realizes he’s getting…

There are people in this world who still know the art of curving a sail exactly so to catch the wind and pull a boat across the water. I’m…

I came back from a morning run along a woodsy trail. The trees still unfolding in front of me. The river still rushing beside the trail…