While winter’s last bloom graced flower and tree, the cardinals in my yard kept singing their song of Spring. The coyotes kept to their usual path, shortly after dawn. The doves found the seed I put out for all…
What will Spring look like in Kyiv? I dread it for them – and for us. This week, an icy grip holds the city. And worse approaches. In my yard, the world awakens and gladdens. Part of me does too….
It’s Saturday morning – dark, early – and I’m in a hotel room in the desert. I’m eating a Twix bar in bed and drinking English Breakfast tea. A tiny fire burns in the tiny fireplace, fed by a…