Roads That Lead Nowhere It isn’t the stillness they talk about, the way the light spills over old barns, or...
“Coach, it’s supposed to rain tomorrow and our raisins are still drying on the ground. My father needs my brother...
Even after so many years, tears still fill my eyes when I think of my brother’s farm accident. That was...
The Parable of the Sower Two trees with bad roots Planted by Lamont, dead six years now He’d have replaced...
We set out on the seven-mile journey from No. 56 to Knockdrin at 7.30 in the morning. The sun had...
Old Man lived at the peak of Ghosten Mountain, not two miles from my boyhood home. Covered in pine and...
The judge of the 2024 Best in Rural Writing Contest, Dr. Chea Parton, just completed the difficult task of choosing 10...
Picking Mushrooms With Papa In Woodinville In the moment, it was what you do. Looking back, it must’ve been strange...
Mama laid her hands on my belly and told me to count my breath. A breath to the count of...
From the car’s passenger seat, I watch grain fields pass like a movie reel. I’m fascinated by the ocean of...
A Meditation on the Land —remembering a farm foreclosure. For Darrell Ringer, 1953-93 “Thank you,” he said, while the black...
And when this house goes down to wrack and ruin, as it must and will, not just because the brick...