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:
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.
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)
Today my trusty Labrador retriever seemed especially attentive as he lay on the deck. His nose twitched constantly, his ears were as much at attention as a Lab’s ears can be. He went onto the lawn long enough to eat … Continue reading
As my potatoes begin to bloom, I am reminded of my dad on this Father’s Day. He talked of growing up on the family farm and how they hauled potatoes to town, to sell. Potatoes were a ‘cash crop’ on … Continue reading