B.B. Boudreau

Novelist | Singer

Return to the Source

Last Day of March. Most of my garden has been cleaned. Only the edges of the driveway remain cocooned in last year’s leaves, a heavy blanket that resists the rake. Those shielding leaves take their job seriously, layering perfectly in alternate patterns, allowing the spring rain to percolate through. When the emerging shoots are finally…

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Next Stop, Winter

Autumn (or Fall, as we always called it) is the most dichotomous season of the year. The magic slant of the sun glances through a canopy of flames clinging still to slender twigs, unwilling to surrender such short lives. Efficient factories, leaves are. They spend their entire existence – seven months at best – orienting…

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