Country Love and Lore Scarecrow needs a new suit. What will the neighbours think, between our field and theirs it...
Weeding in the Tillage Field c.1969 Drizzly rain in for the day. The young lad, set to weeding the tillage-patch...
The Last Mile I ran from tail flicking Friesians their eyes, pools of nowhere, and when everywhere wore off I...
When Bob was married, he went hunting two or three times a year, but just getting out seemed more important...
How peculiar. Before, David had turned off the main road, walked up the potholed lane, climbed over a rickety stile,...
Ciboloto Miss Yang gone to the Western Hemisphere never been back since seeds on her desk have sprouted and grown...
In 1916, when my great grandfather died at the age of eighty-two in Gallatin, Missouri, he left each of his...
The rural mailboxes that marked the turning point to farmhouse laneways dotting the Kansas countryside were landmarks to those wandering...
When They Ring Those Golden Bells Days fall away like apples from October tress cheeks, full and ablush, kissing silver from delicate wrists...
Exhaust Down the country road I witnessed a lengthy cordial visit. An older man was gabbing colorfully with the farmer’s...
Emerging from the fog bank, the Beatrix appeared before them, a sleeping leviathan suddenly filling their vision in the twilight...
The question may be raised why we chose precisely the past of a city to compare with the past of...