I tucked the empty seed bags under my arm and leaned over to pick a daffodil. It was the oldest signal of hope I had ever known. My grandmother, Mimi, had loved her “daffies” so much, she’d painted her kitchen—and…
Peonies: Debutants in Ball Gowns
On Monday, May 8, 2017, I wrote about peonies in my old blog, Rattlebridge Farm. I compared them to debutants in ball gowns. Here’s a snip from my old blog post: My mother and grandmother always referred to peonies as…
Field Note: Dawn on the Ridge
You’re looking at the Ordovician slant. This is the view that pulled at me forty-two years ago, when I stood on a terrace, the silence gathering full as a bell. Look at how the ridges drop away into the Nashville…
Field Note: The Frequency of Ruin
Date: May 5, 2026 Species: Hylocichla mustelina (Wood Thrush) Status: Displaced from the cedar glade and mixed forest. Conditions: 75 F. Seismic vibrations from 4,000-lb hydraulic breakers on the ridge. Here in Wilson County, if you’re lucky enough to visit Cedars of…
His Mercies, Morning by Morning
This morning, I opened Lamentations and found the ancient sentence waiting: “His mercies never end. They are new every morning.” Outside in the wild blackberry thickets, my peonies look as if they’d been unfurled by a botanist, her hands peeling back each…
The Power of Staying
To build a lush forest in a glade takes a geological mercy. And time. Lots of time. The valley was once a layered green habitat, filled with oaks, hickories, and cedars. We’re looking at trees that were at least 120…
Finding Stillness on Earth Day
1958, as I played hopscotch in my grandmother’s Mississippi garden, I didn’t know about global initiatives or environmental footprints. I poured milk from glass jars. I ate Mimi’s tomatoes straight off the vine. I only knew the damp, warm feel…
The Keepers of the House
A Liturgy of the 4:13 PM Before the unmaking began on Water’s Hill, the woods held the calls of a Wood Thrush and Bob-Whites. Those afternoons brought a Sunday-afternoon-nap kind of grace. It was a cedar glade with wild violets…
The Audit of the Arrangement
There is an unmistakable honesty in a sun-drenched windowsill. A million years ago, I set these grocery store lilies in Mother’s old ironstone pitcher. Alstroemeria, for those counting. Sure, they’re cute. Maybe elegant. And any bouquet carries the edge of…
The Official Travel Guide to Joy
Have you ever questioned the definition of joy? The word is used as a synonym for happiness and contentment, but are these ideas interchangeable? And what about other nouns that are stirred in–hope, grace, mercy, and gratitude? Are they just words? All…
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