Welcome to Flyover Country, the vast and delicious expanse between the coasts. Here is where I work and travel, writing about the ordinary, knowing that it is really extraordinary. Nonstop flights from New York to Los Angeles constantly fly over us:
Silver wings and contrails paint names
Across our sky,
They fly from coast to coast.
Quick gaze at our patchwork land
Once white and black, then green and blue
Glide through, enroute.
Little glance from laptop light
To silent scenes below
They come and in a cutting shard they go.
Yet our fathers left us here
To work the space and
Pump the bounty to the coasts,
And keep the secrets of the land.
We stand, look up, wonder where they go,
Thank God they mostly do.Excerpt from Flyover Seasons
(North Star Press 2012)
July 3rd We never imagined, as we planned a trip to the Outer Banks of North Carolina that we would be threatened with a hurricane. We are perched here in the Smoky Mountains of Western North Carolina, hoping to descend … Continue reading
Today I witnessed it again. Our weather on the great expanse of the ‘great wide open’ can pick and choose the winners and losers in the game of agriculture. On my way back to our place I saw a center … Continue reading
The past winter left my grapes with a large amount of die out. The dead wood needs to be cut out of the grape trellises. Even in the greenest of times there are still scars of the last winter. Mostly, … Continue reading
View All Blog Posts