A northern sun shines through my windshield, late rising over harvested fields as I head for home. Winter’s breath mercifully withdrew as we stood around Pam’s grave the day before, a small group of witnesses to her quiet life. “Dust to dust”, the pastor said before we parted ways, her ashes left in the dark … Continue reading Planted

The Door

This is the door of my father’s stories. This very door, pictured above, in an abandoned church in a tiny stone village in England. My family worshipped here 500 years ago, and probably long before that. Through this door my tenth great-grandfather walked one last time before leaving on an impossible journey to the distant … Continue reading The Door