Blockade

The ramshackle jumble of tumble-down trees builds a blockade at the edge of my yard. Brown, mostly brown with highlights of muted green—ivy smothered trees, frozen, dried, projecting brown as well. So brownish on brown, in fading light it’s hard to focus on any one object. Fifteen years ago, my house freshly purchased, no deadfall, … Continue reading Blockade

Bees

It’s a riot of flowers. Fourteen years ago, with our house freshly purchased, we tore out the front garden. A massive juniper cluster, appearing like one bush—three feet high and twelve feet wide—hunkered against our front porch. The giant splotch, one color—pale green—didn’t match our vision, our esthetic. We wanted to make a statement. Not … Continue reading Bees