• It has been more than a month now that we have been sequestered at home, allowed to leave only for necessities. In the beginning we were upbeat, willing participants in…

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  • The lake ice is melting, shifting colors from white to gray. Ducks arrow down to splash around its edges. By the house, a few green things push tips up through…

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  • I remember the scent of the mountains in summer, of pine and cedar, of pressing my nose into the bark of a Ponderosa pine for a whiff of vanilla; of…

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  • The robins returned to our crabapple tree last week. Though the snow lay deep, still they came, singing, announcing that spring has arrived although the snow still flutters down and…

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  • I remember him, waiting here in the still whiteness of winter. I remember the first time he came to me, and the last. I remember the celebrations, and the long…

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  • Sometimes God’s gifts come wrapped in grief. When you find yourself blindsided and reeling, you find that you have been issued an invitation into a raw intimacy with a God…

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  • Intricate miracles are we, rods and cones arranged to perceive beauty, tiny hairs trembling in the spiraled cochlea arranged to hear music and birdsong and the voice of a friend.…

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  • A wolf ran by today. Out on the frozen lake, in the dim, gray light that precedes the dawn he trotted, solitary. What was his mission, leaving the wilderness toward…

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  • Valentine’s day – do you love it or hate it? It seems to me that this day, meant to celebrate love, often is a source of disappointment and discontent.  Some…

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  • Once or twice a week we used to walk through our local park in the evenings. Through the gate we strolled, circling around over the stone bridge, down over water…

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I’m Andrea!

I’m glad we found each other! I’m a writer living in the Minnesota Northwoods with my husband Bill and son Ben. I hope you enjoy reading what you find here. Feel free to reach out! I’d like to get to know you too.