Walking after midnight
This essay was previously published in the Summer 2001 Abbey Letter, no. 206 (Saint Gregory’s Abbey, Three Rivers, Michigan). Shortly after I joined the…
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Practicing silence
At The Hermitage Community, the contemplative prayer center where I serve, we often remark to new guests that we give the gift or “permission”…
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Sounds like home
Werner likes to crouch in his dormer and imagine radio waves like mile-long harp strings, bending and vibrating over Zollverein, flying through forests, through…
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The old farmer stands at the end of the lane, big smile plastered on his face, waving goodbye. His coveralls are stained with work,…
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Dad, 1944
Berlin, Ohio (Photographer Unknown) My first response to this photo was thinking about its simplicity. There’s a certain spare quality in this simple picture…
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Original thrift
Ma was boiling molasses in a pan. When Laura’s kettle was full of popped corn, Ma dipped some into a large pan, poured a…
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Home/Work
Three Rivers, Michigan (September 2015) Late afternoon sunlight slanted across the carpet and ran up the worn wood of the desk. I could feel…
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Melancholy Christmas
We moved to Three Rivers, Michigan, 13 years ago during a snowy winter to live in a cottage on Pleasant Lake. The cold arrived…
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A good life
Three Rivers, Michigan (2015) My mom had asked me to take a photo of my grandparents with my sister, who was visiting our family…
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In defense of details
Until several years ago, almost everything I knew about farming I learned from the Little House books. The Ingalls family saga was the beloved…
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