Nearly three years ago, I squeezed into Silvia's boarded-up house for the first time during a January thaw. My winter boot sought solid purchase as it dangled in the dark…
Continued from Shadow and Light, Braintree, Vermont, Part II From over a slight rise in the narrow dirt road, a tractor approaches through a collonade of nearly leafless maples. I…
After my previous driving disaster, a friend offers to take me to Braintree, Vermont, where we are joined by the president of the local historical society, who becomes our knowledgeable…
At first, my phone call was harbored with deep suspicion. Why, the interest? She didn’t have time right now. She had nothing to say, even as she told me she…
I returned to the States in July, but not to the village were Silvia lived. Instead, I spent the remainder of the summer in a remote little cabin on the…
Small towns are prone to intense politics, due, in part, to participatory politics that extend beyond a simplistic vote. Recently, the political pitch in the little town where Silvia lived…
When winter's grasp is released in bedlam streams, and sap enlivens naked trees, a breath of warmth tames feral winds, and birdsong includes new notes that quicken the pulse of…
In my green woolen cape and clunky winter boots, I tore down Main Street this afternoon, when word reached me through a neighbor that the front door of Silvia's house…
Neighbor's voices drift vaguely on the cool breeze, punctuated by the sound of car doors clapping shut. Greetings and exclamations join laughter and music, as the smoke from a small…
Powdery flakes complete the whiteness of a blanketed landscape, festooning the firs and stringing garlands of sky on the paper birches. Hoary rooftops puff rounds of smoke, as icicles drip…
