Essays + Reflections
Writing through the pandemic
This past Covid year I’ve discovered the things that kept me sane and hopeful also kept me writing.
Blossom to blossom
Last year, I watched my father pick the remaining blossoms from his apple tree. Some promised fruit, others did not.
Panning for glints of the living past
Beneath the desk at which I work at home sit six worn-looking archive boxes.