One of my greatest joys as a writer is discovering and using new color words. I was the sort of child who drooled over 96- or 128- count boxes of crayons and colored pencils, poured over my mother’s Land’s End catalogues for the hues of turtlenecks and sundresses, and spent far too much time picking […]
A poem for you this day. Solmonað is the Anglo-Saxon equivalent of February. It translates to “mud month.” False springs appear in deep winter – a tease of green as the snow falls again. Restless, we count robins – or are they sparrows playing games? We long for buds and blossoms under a Lent-grey sky […]
It is not enough for me to say or hear “I hate winter.” Every year, I face the season with the same dogged goal to appreciate Winter. Not to say it’s easy. I could do without the bone-chilling winds and the dry air, wet socks and flavorless vegetables. And clearing off the car and driving […]
