love: small and glad, day 7

This sixth-floor waiting room has wide windows, overlooking the city, which from up here has more trees than buildings, by far. In the far distance, a buzzard wheels and rides an updraft, and in the foreground, there’s a butterfly riding another updraft, up at what seems to me a dizzy distance for a butterfly, that…

Five Minute Friday (on Saturday): gather

This morning I read the story of Ruth -- a book possessing a poetry and romance all its own, as it seem to show between its lines that Boaz acted not only out of obligation but also from delight in the woman who gleaned behind his reapers. Gleaning. Gathering. Not necessarily glamorous pastimes, these, and I think…

dust of doing

Golden sunset haze in the dust from the cotton gin blinded me this evening.  The two new bridges on the northbound side of the highway are fully open today, with the regiments of orange-and-white cones finally having retreated, leaving smooth fresh pavement behind them.  Last week, the boy began walking on crutches. In the wake of that…