Every Saturday night I stop off to see the aspens. They are exotics, just like me, flourishing where they were planted, not knowing or caring that they’re not where they “belong.” They line a tidal estuary and create a tiny wild place in the heart of the city. On Saturday nights the lights for the … Continue reading The Aspens
My step dance teacher told us that set dances were always the same, unchanged. But she’d go on to say that “this is the way the step was done when I was a girl,” and she’d demonstrate, quick and clean. Though she was past fifty and round, her feet were still sure of themselves. “But … Continue reading The story is always true, even if it’s told differently.