Author: Maria
Tiny Paradise
Tiny Paradise I don’t know anything. I just watch these birds in childlike wonder. Two little wrens in the leatherwood outside the porch, a flicker, working its way down the walnut tree. Oh, they li... Read More
Younger Self
Younger Self I can see her there, looking confident, cocky even, but I know her well. She is terrified, has no idea what she is supposed to do with this “life” that is now, suddenly, hers. I wonde... Read More
On Turning Sixty
I wrote this one over five years ago and still feel the same way. On Turning Sixty I am not old. But I can see old there on the horizon. Which has always been true, I suppose. Its just that now, I don... Read More
Book Review
Book Review The main character has kept me company for a while now on quiet afternoons, has coaxed me back to sleep on anxious nights. Against the backdrop of a particular moment in history in a parti... Read More
I’m the Mom
Written a long, long time ago. Happy Mother’s Day! I’m the Mom I wasn’t born a mother, like my children think. Once, not long ago, I was a child, too. I hung my head off the couch and lo... Read More
This I Need to Remember
This I need to remember When I am looking back from the perch of old age, this is what I need to remember: Every morning in the spring, summer and fall, I would get my coffee and notebook and sit on t... Read More
Note to a Young Parent
Note to a Young Parent Despite the vastness of your love, you, too, will undoubtedly encounter a particular brokenness in yourself so deep that you cannot traverse it, even for your children’s sake.... Read More
Along for the Ride
Along for the Ride The whole family piled into that station wagon. Big kids sat in the middle seat, little kids in the far back, facing the rear. I was one of the little kids, just along for the ride.... Read More
Hallelujah
Hallelujah On this crisp spring morning, the dogwood tree gracefully offers its abundant platters of delicate blossoms in an act of grateful praise. A royal carpet of violets covers the ground at its ... Read More
What My Words Cannot Contain
What My Words Cannot Contain I want my life to be a prayer and by that, I mean a seeking, a listening, a blossoming toward. Toward what? I don’t want to say “God” because it is a word too fraugh... Read More
Squirrel Show
Squirrel Show On warmish mornings, we sit on the porch with our coffee and watch the squirrel show. They will take a running leap from the end of an oak branch and fling themselves over the driveway o... Read More
Missed Boat
Missed Boat There was a time when I looked at other people’s expansive homes, their accomplishments, their travels, and I got the sense that we had somehow missed the boat. We hadn’t gotten news t... Read More