Last Sunday, my fifteen year old son Will hugged me goodbye and took off for an evening bike ride as I cleaned up the last of our Easter dishes. I don't know what made me look at the clock when he left, but I remember being pleased that the sun was still shining so late … Continue reading True Love
John Steinbeck
Mid-Summer Green
This long, treacherous winter has me longing to skip spring altogether and jump into the warmth of a lazy mid-summer day. I've been dreaming of green - not scattered shoots of crocuses or the chartreuse of emerging leaves, but vibrant swaths of treetop and grass so lush that it begs for bare feet. Steinbeck wrote … Continue reading Mid-Summer Green
the aesthete and the dilettante 