Benched

The green wreath tacked to the back of the wooden bench was no bigger than a dinner plate. A note card fixed next to the wreath, lacquered over in tape, read:   Please do not remove this wreath. It is for my late husband to whom this bench is dedicated. I glanced to the right…

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A Little Light in Fall

I had no idea why Dad was so grumpy. They were just leaves–piles of them that he had spent the last hour raking onto a big, blue tarp and hauling off into the woods at the edge of our yard. While my father raked, my brother and I chased each other around the yard, diving,…

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No Peaking

This October I missed New England’s main event: peak fall foliage. For people unfamiliar with this phenomenon, each autumn the leaves all over this part of the country go on a hunger strike, leeching the green from their veiny hands to replace it with the most brilliant, jeweled earth tones of scarlets, oranges, and yellows.…

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Hearts and Seeds

For a long time now I’ve been catching hearts out in the wild. They show up everywhere—in patterns of leaves, in the formation of clouds in the sky, as graffiti on the sides of underpasses. It’s a lot like that Sixth Sense kid, “I see hearts, they’re everywhere!” and sometimes I do whisper in that…

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Life Finds A Way

“Life finds a way,” says Jeff Goldblum as the wry, arch, very Goldblum-y character Dr. Ian Malcolm in Jurassic Park. He’s referring to the naïve notion that the scientists actually have a handle on population control in the Dino-park, that they can somehow put a leash on the dinosaurs’ breeding habits, which would not only…

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