Strawberries. Blueberries. Blackberries. Cherries. I could spend the next hour experimenting with the order of those four words, to see and hear which looks and sounds best with the color, flavor, and meaning they convey — or the next week, and the next, until berries and cherries give way to melons and peaches. And if I say it’s a listening thing, the falling of water on rocks and the crack […]
On the north side of the house, not far from the front door, we have a small shade garden that has come about almost entirely of its own accord. It began with the stump of an old bush, a dripping faucet, and a small sword fern under a nearby rhododendron. The fern, moreover, had long been ignored, a stunted, drought-worthy survivor. At the base of the stump is a small […]
When the all-pervasive scent from the grass seed fields enters the house, it is transformed into a ghost. For instance, if you visit a particular room in search of needle and thread, as soon as you enter you are sure you are not alone, or that someone was there before you and is about to return. I say transformed, but how, and by what? Does it work the magic itself, […]
William Michaelian 