Novelist | Singer
The thermometer reads 10 degrees. Ten. There is no denying, it is winter. A nuthatch is clinging to the side of the suet feeder, bashing its thin beak against rock-hard lard. Goldfinches, chickadees and house finches all vie for limited perches on the feeders. When I leave for work, the wooden deck outside creaks and…
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…