Category Archives: Creative Non-fiction

At 13, I learned that quitting is a solo act, but success is a team effort. In 1988 I entered high school an obese, unpopular, D student. I wasn’t interested in high school for the

Continue reading

Fireflies lit our way as Jim and I rode back from dinner at a biker bar in Williamsport, Maryland, to our damp and buggy campsite, four miles south on the C & O canal trail. 

Continue reading

“You have to be strong for your sister You can’t cry, she needs you.” I must play that in my head over and over again. No matter how prepared you think you are, the truth

Continue reading

He fell in love the first day he saw her. She entranced him with her natural beauty. She was only in a friends’ picture, but from that moment on she was always in his dreams.

Continue reading

I keep bees. For the most part beekeeping is relatively hands-off—the bees go about on their tiny day-to-day missions of glory and adventure, and I stand at a respectful distance and watch them. Occasionally, however,

Continue reading

We are alone, walking on the street, staring at that particular nothingness that exists just a couple of feet ahead of us, at eye level. We stand alone in the elevator, surrounded by pressing bodies jutting

Continue reading

A few years back on a winter morning, I walked the north portion of Paradise Church Road.  On this rather cool day, I witnessed the falling of a limb from a large tree in an

Continue reading

Some mornings, the moon plays off a rising sun, lingers in a lightening sky. In Native American tradition, each month’s full moon was ascribed a name representing a characteristic of that time of year, for

Continue reading

When spring arrives in Florida, no one safely traverses our back patio. Our camphor tree,  cinnamomum camphora, which provides plenteous shade from Florida’s searing summer wrath, nevertheless, turns on us. This tree is considered a

Continue reading

I crept south on Brush Mountain, sneaking over and under the encroaching laurel hoping to hit a clearing where I could sit and wait on a buck. After several hundred yards, I approached the edge

Continue reading