by Carole Duff | Jul 8, 2024 | Faith, Nature, Writing and Reading |
“What specific species is that?” our neighbor asked about a tree with a branch of leaves turning reddish yellow. We were eating a 4th of July Eve dinner—grilled brats, Keith’s baked beans, potato salad, slaw, and garden cucumbers—on the dining deck. “I’m not...
by Carole Duff | Jun 10, 2024 | Faith, Nature |
I stared at the buckeye trees and wondered, “Can I reverse the leaf damage?” The yellowing and brown-spotted tree leaves looked like they were suffering from too much sun or heat or too little water. There wasn’t anything I could do about the sun, so I watered. But...
by Carole Duff | Jun 3, 2024 | Faith, Nature, Writing and Reading |
Through—moving or expressing movement in one side and out the other, continuing toward completion or a final destination, running the whole length of a building—depending on whether through is a preposition, adverb, or adjective. For me in faith, it’s about the entry...
by Carole Duff | May 13, 2024 | Faith, Nature, Writing and Reading |
“Years ago, I could not have imagined a someday like this,” I said to Keith. We were sitting at an outside table on the terrace at the Byers Street Bistro. Later, we would read at the SWAG (Staunton, Waynesboro, Augusta Group) open mic located at SolArt Center...
by Carole Duff | May 6, 2024 | Faith, Nature |
For some reason, the “Fly Away Medley,” which our choir is rehearsing to sing this summer at our historic church location Trinity, is kicking my butt. The medley includes: “I’ll Fly Away,” “We’ll Understand It Better By and By,” “When the Roll is Called Up...
by Carole Duff | Apr 29, 2024 | Faith, Nature, Writing and Reading |
On Friday morning, as I stepped outside with Mac dog into the “almost” at Vanaprastha—almost another day—I heard two barred owls’ spectacular, loud, emphatic calls in the dark before dawn. Ok-ok-ok-ok ok-ok-buhooh, variations of the mnemonic “who cooks for you.” The...
