Bug had the farthest to drive, but he was the first to arrive. Was it a coincidence that he was...
I was my paternal grandfather’s least favorite grandchild. My father’s parents lived in Marshall, a small town to our west,...
Grieving Horses The last thing I expected turning into the gravel drive were four red manes bowing over a split...
Swans When the four emerged from the eggs, I knew the odds. One or two would make it. The others...
Stepping out of the truck, I took a deep breath. I tried to remind myself that this was the same...
Education … Fortunate Fields—like those of old Sought in the Atlantic Main, why should they be A history only of...
Rural Voices Measures of separation These mountains between Stakes set by generations Traveling the same Wilderness between sunsets These colors...
The judge of the 2025 Best in Rural Writing Contest, Jamie Guiney, just completed the challenging task of choosing 10...
I know a boy who loved too much. He’s my cousin, Toby. I first noticed when he was seven, two...
The Sugars of Existence What he feels, he acts upon; What determines truth describes consequence. Aspens in the high country,...
At the Hour of Milk When the barn lit up for the very first time the cows in their stanchions...
Agata drove along the flat scrub of the west valley. Clouds a marvel of grey, gold, and pink. She pulled...