BEEN THINKIN’ ABOUT… RED, ORANGE, BLACK. Night fell out on the big road, a thousand trucks lit like Christmas trees, 80 miles-per-hour stars in the sudden dusk, stars streaming west, following the contours of the land, west wind to a dying sun. This Osage land is where upland plateau — all rocks and hollers and…
BEEN THINKIN’ ABOUT… BROKEN SKY PROMISES. The lily pond was quiet, save for dark bubbling waters. The piped sounds of classical music had faded, the people mostly gone home. A tree frog peeped from beneath jungly hosta leaves. This strange Eden carved from cornfields and beneath the prairie sky fell into shadow, casualty of another…
BEEN THINKIN’ ABOUT… THE SENTINEL OAKS’ PROMISE. I ran down the path, bare feet flying on our forest floor. I liked to run the paths we had made, paths mostly free of gooseberry thorns. Still, I had to be careful. When you grow up going bare foot spring, summer and most of autumn, you learn…