Category Archives: Uncategorized

Yesterday, nuthatches swarmed the bird feeder. The dogwood tree seemed to move like an escalator, birds walking upside down in a row. And there were the visiting birds, perching along the electric wires, migraters at a rest stop. Yesterday, I … Continue reading →

I am powerless—in more ways than one. I drove to my house to soothe the cat. The electric lines were still down, the house was an oven. I stopped for coffee at the convenience store. The parking lot was full … Continue reading →

The tanks rolled up to the balcony where I was standing and holding a little girl in my arms. The turrets made an awful racket as they pivoted their guns up and toward the balcony. The girl screamed and clawed … Continue reading →

“What the hell did you think I’d be doin’?” Farmer Orville said, in response to my questioning his sanity because he was weeding blackberry bushes, and the temperature was 102. My hummingbirds drank two containers of sugar water today. The … Continue reading →

This summer, for the very first time, some beast has been stealing the nectar from my hummingbird feeder. It began with the feeder on the ground in the morning, the yellow cage thingies plucked and strewn about. Each successive night, … Continue reading →

I like to sit in my bathroom and read. The west light window is a lure, plus the cool tile floor feels good on bare feet. Yesterday, I was reading Vergil’s “Aeneid” in the original Latin. You know, the part … Continue reading →

July 2 is Alive Day for Sergeant Ed Matayka, who was blown up while serving as a medic, in Afghanistan, in 2010. His wife Karen, also a medic, served in the same Vermont National Guard unit, the 186th Support Battalion, … Continue reading →

Mah daddy, Jefferson Beauregard Sessions Jr., raised me to respect the history of the glorious Confederacy. We were both named for that hero of the South, President Jefferson Davis and P. T. G. Beauregard, the “hero of Fort Sumpter.” That’s … Continue reading →

Sunday afternoon, Farmer Orville and I drove to the two-block-long town of Fieldon for our friend Mike West’s wake, at the local Baptist church. I’m uneasy in churches. The more fundamentalist they are, the queasier I get. Orville is a … Continue reading →

A peach rose up over the town, a perfect pink peach on the horizon, and strands and ribbons of music undulated over the water. Big Brock just sang “Gypsy Woman” so soulful, and his voice blew the tree tops, his … Continue reading →