The Whole World

I stepped outside after washing dishes (that’s a lot of happy birthdays in soapy water) to the back porch. It had been a hot afternoon, the dry mountain air sucking us all into prunes. The cold night breeze was a welcome relief. Habitually and unconsciously, my eyes traveled to the rectangle of black sky beyond…

This Month

Towards the end of her fascinating autobiography An Ordinary Woman´s Extraordinary Faith, Patricia St. John mentions, “one cannot easily write about the present. Those involved are very much alive and close at hand….” In addition to sensitivity to privacy and the dignity of mankind, the present can seem cloudy. There are untied strings, buds are still…