Writing

A trip to the local recycling center offers creative ways to build community. Seeking to do good alongside others can free us from isolation

The discarded mailbox with leftover mail in my yard was a time capsule, a relic, no longer existing in its purpose but a reminder of its fun

As a child, I painted landscape scenes I had never laid eyes on . . . a world and century removed from my turn-of-the-millennium Florida cla

I told myself I wanted my yard to be recognized as a bird sanctuary for all the right reasons. But two older ladies with clipboards and natu

If we want to move beyond our social silos, we have to take a risk. We have to let down our guard and get close enough to recognize specific

Discovering the freeing power of poetry in the midst of relational conflict.

This week What the Bird Sees in Flight turned THREE! I'm proud to celebrate this work of historical fiction, and recognize that it's also...

When we are faced with the decision of what to do now, what questions do we ask? How do we offer and express ourselves?

I know precious little about seeds. But I’m learning to identify the wild plants growing in the open field that stretches between the...

There’s a galaxy of good in your existence Though terror persists and hope seems hidden There are beautiful patterns aloft in the sky...

Forget "Barbenheimer." There was a different movie mashup on my mind this past weekend: "Bargaret." Or "Margarbie?" Regardless of the...

The dark gray sky warned of an approaching storm as I drove into the small parking lot sheltered by moss-laden trees. The humid summer...

Twice over the past several weeks, I have found myself in front of a room of several dozen people, facing a microphone and an audience...

Oftentimes the formative places of our youth shrink as we get older, dimming like a shadow compared to the prestige of their rose-tinted...

I was in a hurry when I drove past my next-door neighbor's house early Monday morning on my way to work. If I'd been walking, I would...

The past month has been a low point in the ebb and flow of my creativity. I’ve felt like giving up on my next book, even though it’s...

Though no one wants to go to bed on an empty stomach, how many of us would find our days fulfilling if we merely woke up, ate three...

The vines are anchored to the tree are great, hairy, bulging ropes, winding up the rough bark like parasitic leeches. Wrapped in the...

Screens Many days are spent looking at screens Information, plans, stories and advertisements projected onto backlit rectangles Formatted...

Going home can stir up a strange mix of affection and anxiety, bringing to mind memories both fond and painful. We revisit the person,...