So—2026 sneaked in while I wasn’t looking because I was laid low by what a kind, highly efficient nurse practitioner designated a heavy viral load. The aches, pains, fever, and congestion that started at Christmas have just now loosened their gnarly grip. I am almost back to normal. When I am unwell, I return to … Continue reading Going to Innisfree
Tag: Robert Frost
Writing by or about Robert Frost
Social Ties and a Youthful Brain
Several days ago, I was reading an article about practices that help keep our brains young and memory strong as we age. I don’t remember all the practices, no irony intended, but starting a new hobby you’ll stick with was one of them. Knitting was considered particularly good. Among the other practices researchers touted were … Continue reading Social Ties and a Youthful Brain
The Poetry of and in November
My November Guest My Sorrow, when she's here with me, Thinks these dark days of autumn rain Are beautiful as days can be; She loves the bare, the withered tree; She walked the sodden pasture lane. Her pleasure will not let me stay. She talks and I am fain to list: She's glad the birds … Continue reading The Poetry of and in November
Talking With Trees
Recently, my husband and I spent a few days in a treehouse. I’d love to claim it was one of those adventurous and romantic houses you or a sibling or a friend built yourself as a child—one you nailed a few boards across on a couple of sturdy limbs and hammered a side to here … Continue reading Talking With Trees
Spring
Although fall is my favorite season, spring is none too shabby itself. In fact, when we are blessed with the generous rains we often are in spring, Central Texas explodes into lush greens and bursts into wild blues, yellows, reds, whites, and pinks along roadsides, parks, and throughout pastures. It is a glorious time of … Continue reading Spring
Alone
There are those times in our lives when the crushing throngs around us become too much to deal with, and we seek the calm of solitude or the society of a select few. One need not be a misanthrope to desire the quiet and still, the company of “old dogs and watermelon wine,’ or the … Continue reading Alone
Behind His Father’s Saying
I have long admired the poetry of Robert Frost; in fact, one of his poems, in particular, is a favorite of mine. No, it's not "The Road Not Taken" or "Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening," though both certainly have their merits, but rather is "Mending Wall." I admit that Frost is often a … Continue reading Behind His Father’s Saying