Category Archives: Gardening

Theology in a Dry Spell

I pray for a long night
and a following day
of slow, seeping rain Continue reading

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Toward Peace

We sit, then, sipping cold drinks
and watching the moon slip its way
into the branches of the pin oak. Continue reading

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Lemonade

I was reminded recently of an old, old truth: When we learn how to turn misfortune into opportunity, we have touched one of the great secrets of victorious living. Over the years, I’ve learned that a tool or machine is like an attitude: sometimes the best way to fix one is to just get a new one. Now, this is not an election-year story of rags to riches or of fame to shame. Just a man and his mower. Well, former mower… Continue reading

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A Whisper of Faith

ool air eases in through the window,
something less than a breeze,
just a soft flowing of the night. Continue reading

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Purpose Driven Life

Spring has surged
so green and sudden
that the Bradford pears
have already gone
from bloom to leaf. Continue reading

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Unseasonable

For the second time in a week, we reached sixty degrees yesterday. At the time of year when our normal high temperatures are in the teens, we’re looking at another week of the forties. The day started out with ominous omens. Continue reading

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Taking a Stand

I had thought it was a completely rational idea to have the horses keep the grass “mowed” on the state right-of-way. It would save gas, give the horses extra grazing they needed and, in the long run, save me time. So I put up a temporary extension fence down by the highway. Continue reading

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Gutter Check

With skies darkening and the forecast calling for thunderstorms, I made sure that the flexible extension tube was connected to the elbow at the bottom of the downspout. “Ready for rain now,” I thought, Continue reading

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Summer Snow

These almost-lighter-than-air seeds of the cottonwood tree drift away, showing no sign of breeze. For four days or longer, there has been no stirring of the air, no fluttering of leaves. The seeds slide slowly to the earth in the oppressive heat, catch against an edge of turf, old posts or planks, whatever disrupts the smooth edge of the earth.

Continue reading

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Fresh-Milled Memories

I remember early autumns of my adolescence, helping make cider on the farm and in Kelvie Nicholson’s orchard, swapping turns at the heavy crank.

Tonight, for the first time, I miss my Dad.
Continue reading

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