Birds of a Feather
Yesterday, I stood and watched a magpie winkling bites from the suet feeder Which hangs off my porch rail–made fetching by a tin beak, tail, painted wings, and the wire feet of a northern flicker….
Category: Essays
The Competition
No one talks about it. The topic being too close to home. A guilty secret. But, I bet, if you’re over 65 you know . . . That we are racing each other away from…
I Learned This Year . . .
More about growing old and navigating the world. I am 75. And tentative, slow on steps, unsteady on rocky ground. More so after a silly, spectacular sprawl in my living room last spring. The perfect…
On Holiday
From our perch beside the Ionian Sea, We jousted over “sea” and “ocean.” I called the expanse of water that glittered beyond us, “ocean.” Jean said “sea.” Which was the encompassing phenomenon, I asked. Which…
Guardians
My Rolladex empties. Tonight, the only “A” is gone. Jean Applegate died yesterday, a year after her husband Clarence. I’d worked with Jean at our human resources development agency. We shared the office outside the…
If These Walls Could Talk
In fact, they do. Nothing noisy. No annoying chatter. Just quiet murmurs. The faintest of queries, the gentlest of reminders that keep me company day in and day out. That make this safe space, still…
Safe Places
They were a staple of 80s self-help thinking, Of Al Anon discussion, of counselors long on affirmations. The notion that, when our worlds get ugly, when crazy thinking and fear make hash of the day…
Yes Yes Yes Yes Yes Yes
My small office was beside the door to the Senior Center Parlor, not far from the Dining Room. Close by, I’d added a bulletin board for upcoming event flyers, the month’s birthday list, reminders of…
Old Maids or Authors
Christmas, 1972, my Mother gave me a copy of the Granddaughters’ Inglenook Cookbook, recipes from Brethren women collected over the previous 200 years—traditionally presented by the McPherson Church to its new brides. I was 26,…
Disciplines
Dave ended every day at his desk in our basement on Choteau. He’d built it to his own dimensions—too big to ever leave the house—and painted it brown. A color Em and Amanda were quick…