They finally gave us washable cloth masks at work. When I brought one home, my wife commented that it looked like a young girl’s panties. That thought had definitely not occurred to me. Soft, small, white and, yes, cottony. That is, after Emily said it, what they looked like. I couldn’t get … Continue reading Sons of Liberty
Fatherhood
Roswell City Limits
My father died on February 25th, 2012. He was 67 years old. He had made an appointment to see a doctor that day, but the pain got to be too much and he ended up dialing 911. He had a perforated stomach that led to septicemia which is a bacterial infection of the blood. He … Continue reading Roswell City Limits
My Father’s Shoes
In my earliest recollection of childhood, I feign sleep in the back seat of a car. Through a veil of eyelashes, I watch motes of dust circulate in a shaft of sunlight like something astral. I remain like that a long time--in wonder of the dust--when I hear my mother tell my father that … Continue reading My Father’s Shoes
Trailer Park
The trailer park was a sprawling place with plenty of vacant spaces for a boy to roam and get lost. One end bordered a huge lot of scrapped construction machinery with a giant mound of tractor tires we used to play on. Sometimes a truck would rumble through the gate and we would run like … Continue reading Trailer Park
Banjo Blueberry Crumb Cake
My wife is forever losing her blueberries. They tumble like marbles from the peanut butter slathered bagels that she sprinkles so generously with chia seeds. She’s a healthy one, a vegetarian, my wife. I refer to them, jokingly, as her “birdseed bagels.” She claims not to see them, these runaway blueberries. They “get lost” in … Continue reading Banjo Blueberry Crumb Cake
Birdhouse
A storm passed overnight and the strong winds blew down the birdhouse that Miles and I had constructed over the winter from some old boards in the basement. I've never been much of a carpenter. The boy stood beside me as I lifted the quaint, but shoddy, peak-roofed box from the ground. I had … Continue reading Birdhouse
Mouse Trouble
I’ve yet to slaughter any cats, but I once killed a mouse in front of my son with a tennis racket. I don’t know if I’ve ever felt as satisfied in my manhood as at that moment, or so attuned to nature. We can admire the songbirds with our binoculars, but it is worth … Continue reading Mouse Trouble
Seven Manifestations of God: a Photo Essay
I haven't read the Bible in decades, nor do I attend church. I don't pray in any formal sense. Yet, I regard myself as a spiritual person. If I were to label my beliefs, I would say I am a naturalistic pantheist--someone who rejoices in the beauty of the natural world, someone who sees God, … Continue reading Seven Manifestations of God: a Photo Essay
Lost and Found
On Father’s Day, I took my older boy down to where Minnehaha Creek flows into the Mississippi River. We parked our bikes by some bushes where the path eroded away into sand. My son wanted to look for lost fishing lures to place in the little tacklebox I had given him. He carried it everywhere, … Continue reading Lost and Found
A Map of Memory
A map is formed with memory. The places you’ve gone and the things you’ve done. Say a mental image of you fishing with your father when you pass a spot on a lake. Or you might think of your daughter when she was small as you drive by a deserted playground where you, long … Continue reading A Map of Memory
