April 10, 2021
A sense of being home often settles as dust does. It may land imperceptibly, though its accumulation is gently relentless. One day you may wake up to realize that where you once simply stayed is now where you truly belong. If fortune and choices have both been good, it’s a settling to celebrate. It’s another marker of time’s reliable passage. Time too is gently relentless in its settling and accumulation.
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February 13, 2021
I didn’t meet Mildred Kanipe until thirty-eight years after her death. I stumbled upon her homestead and grave by accident, along an obscure back road between London and Oakland.
Around here, it’s less than an hour’s drive from London to Oakland. These are not the great cities but their rural Oregon namesakes, mere pinpoints along a map few have cause to follow.
The day I met Mildred, I… READ MORE
January 11, 2021
My mother and I agreed on our favorite tree. From the porches of our adjacent dwellings, the magnificent ancient fir towered above us. It was certainly older than me, perhaps even her. For almost a century, its limbs grew graceful and majestic. I was inspired by its resolute strength in standing still yet constantly growing. We watched it dance in every wind, concerned sometimes that it might fall in a gale. After all, its… READ MORE