A Sheep Farm in Wales

A Sheep Farm in Wales

Walking Welsh Winds. South Wales reminded me of the Driftless Region of Minnesota and Wisconsin, with rolling hills, rivers, and a mixture of forest and field. Yet there was the ocean and warm gulf winds. Plants we only see indoors in Minnesota, grow along the side of...
Musing in Montenegro’s Capital City

Musing in Montenegro’s Capital City

I began this essay in Montenegro where people speak a local Serbian dialect they defiantly call Montenegrin, and finished writing it in Wales, where Welsh is defiantly visible on every signpost, yet English is undeniably dominant.  Such is the language of empire. And...
Look at the Trees!

Look at the Trees!

A memory that came back to me as David and I rode from southern Virginia to Northern Georgia on this book tour.  I am eight-years old .It is June,1966. We are in a blue station wagon, filled with plants and cats and little brothers. The infant is in a basket in the...
“I DON’T READ.”

“I DON’T READ.”

Peddling my book, I keep hearing this confession:  I don’t read. I can’t read.  I am not a reader. At a table on Lake Street in Minneapolis a man said, “I can’t believe I’m telling you this. I haven’t told anyone.” He intimated the problem was his eyes. He wanted to...