"Write it down," my friend said. We were sitting on my front porch, late one Saturday afternoon. I want to describe it as a gray and drizzling scene, with a thin ribbon of cool air riding a warm breeze, the signal of oncoming weather. In truth, I can't remember this particular detail. The day may … Continue reading Write it down.
The letter, were I to write it, might open this way: What a year this has been, right from the start... In January we had the craziest weather. One weekend it snowed; the next it was sunny and 70 degrees. Almost every night ended with an outrageously vibrant, pink sunset. Inside the confines of our … Continue reading On birds, and letters, and opera.