Kinship, Borders, Alone

Monday morning in Canaan, New Hampshire. January 16, 2017. About five o’clock. Pretty dark out, still. I slept hard and fast–the efficient shuteye that comes after a bender. I was awake because the drunk of the day before had worn off, so morning’s pangs of depression were starting to rise up like sewage in a…

On Woods, Raptors and Youth

In my youth, I spent considerable time in the woods. I was lucky to walk out my back door, across the deck, down the splintered steps and have a woodland trail sprawl out at my feet. I would weave through thick oaks and lean on white birch, watching the southern face of my house grow…