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Summer Solstice
178 wordsThe sun lasts until 10 p.m. These are the good days, intrinsically so, because without knowledge of history, without, even, knowledge of the unfoldings of the seasons, these days would be good. We all crave the sun. We’re all linked to it, and we hold it inside ourselves like fireflies. Like the leaves from the tree,…
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Without Concrete
171 wordsSometimes I wonder what the world would look like if we lifted up the concrete. I mean, what if we ripped out all the roads, and the parking lots, and the driveways leading up to people’s houses? I keep imagining it, crumbling away like that, but I have a hard time imagining what would be…
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The Plant With Purple Flowers
330 wordsUntil yesterday I hadn’t paid much attention to the American brooklime. I’m sure I’ve walked past it numerous times–in fields, in marshy pathways puddled with mud, alongside black streams smelling of a warm day’s shade. My life as a forest dweller has likely brought me into unbeknownst contact with the American brooklime countless times, year after year,…
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Dusk Is Not A Summer Word
66 wordsDusk is not a summer word Because when the sun is behind the mountains the sky still holds, high up, stretching onward and onward, even once it is fully night the light holds on, into a silence, cool and echoing, like the moment when the sun has left your skin as the lingering warmth drains away, and you…
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