Lifestyle
Texture. Time. Substance.
Calling Out in the Dusk
This guest post is written by Dawn Moyer, introduced by Julie Mathison I am excited to share my first guest post! Dawn Moyer is a good friend who happens to share my birth year and is one of those people that you can't stop talking to, once you've begun. We invariably...
The Ice Storm Cometh
Here in the Pacific Northwest, it’s all about the trees, at least when it comes to natural beauty, outdoor recreation, and occasionally… natural disaster. In the summer, fires rage through our forests with increasing frequency, casting a dingy, orange veneer over the...
A Season for all Things
It’s autumn and the leaves are changing. Weeding in the garden, I see a bank of clouds roll over Mary’s Peak, darker than the pervading gray. I run inside to get my raincoat and then keep weeding, pulling clumps of grass out by mud-clad roots, thistles, old lettuces,...
The Road to Santiago
What do we search for, and why? This, I wondered, as I stood on the rooftop of the Cathedral of Santiago De Compostela, gazing down at the Puerta Santa, the Sacred Gate. I might have asked the two women with whom I was chatting; Swedish, but schooled in perfect...
Love and Loss: An Ode to 2020
It is loss, not possession, that delivers us to the essence of things. This has been a lifelong lesson. I am a connoisseur of loss, not by choice, but by nature and history. As I child, I felt deeply and therefore felt losses deeply. This, coupled with a tumultuous...
Scrooge’s Ghost
I am four years old. This is deep memory, the membrane stretched, gossamer-thin, over a reality I no longer inhabit. A young child’s world, full of wonder, danger, and mystery. Impressions linger: flour dusted over the countertops (did I sneak into the kitchen at...
Why Boredom Matters
Boredom. The scourge of childhood. At least, it used to be. I remember long drives in the backseat of the car, all the way across the country with only the horizon for company. Telephone wires that looped up and down, up and down. Static on the radio. Windows rolled...
The Good Shepherd
Jon Linton sees people. That’s what he does for a living and for a life, seeing people who haven’t experienced being seen in days, months, even years. And in seeing them, he redeems them – and himself. The I Have A Name Project was born on the streets of...
Dispatches from the Apocalypse
I wake up at 2:34 a.m., and my chest feels tight. Glowing numbers from the display clock splay across the ceiling, and I turn over, determined to sleep, but there’s a smell in the air. It’s that campfire smell, nice and woodsy, only it’s in my bedroom, and...
Camping: Snapshots of a Life
My earliest memories of camping are snapshots of travel, radio tower lights winking, red in the darkness, whispering to my dozy mind of strange and magical horizons. These were our itinerant years, and camping was cheap. Long stretches of Nebraska highway,...
The Sugar Beets: Music with a Side of Wonder
On the most important day of my life, the Sugar Beets were there. We had made all the arrangements. Round tables, each laid with table cloths and a small vase of flowers, were scattered amongst the trees of our centuries-old oak grove. Plates in...
The Fledgling Green
Every spring, for the last fifteen years, we have planted a garden. In recent years, much of this has fallen to our friends, Greg and Amber, who share in the spoils of chard, kale, carrots, beets, garlic, lettuce and berries of all kinds. But we all do our...
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