Lay of the Land
Broken Badlands
I WHEN WE ARE SMALL and close to the earth, there is more landscape than time. It’s only later that we forget. Only later that we begin to play pretend. I was Continue reading
Lay of the Land
Lay of the Land
A Dill in Every Soup
I love to look at dill. I love to handle it, chop it. It’s an elegant shape. Its featheriness is touchable; I brush it on my cheeks when no one is looking. Continue reading
Lay of the Land
Cicadas Still Sing
IN LATE JUNE, the thrum of annual cicadas, or chicharras, as we call them here in San Antonio, becomes the dominant sound of summer. The air percolates with percussion as males buckle Continue reading
Lay of the Land
The Gift of Touch
Being still, listening, resting in the humble feeling of not knowing, and becoming, truly, a grandchild—curious, longing for stories. Continue reading
Lay of the Land
In the Ghost Wood
THE DAY IS COLD and bright as I walk up the quiet road through small wet fields edged with hawthorn and gorse bushes. The sky is ice blue; behind me, the Continue reading