Elegy for the Sycamores I: The Lie I Tell My Granddaughter

The sycamores have surrendered their leaves and I tell her they're deep into winter sleep, though inside I worry for these naked trees— the sentinels of a time that has passed. "Why do you care about nature so much?" she asks as we walk through a dry stream bed. With careful footing around stream boulders I manage to… Continue reading Elegy for the Sycamores I: The Lie I Tell My Granddaughter

Elegy for the Sycamores II: Before the Fires Take Them

Year after year I return to sit by this old stream bed framed in sycamore trees and watch as they slowly let go of their leaves to begin their long and silent good-byes.   My elders, the tribe of the sycamore tree— they watched over us throughout our childhood as godparents, when they patiently stood… Continue reading Elegy for the Sycamores II: Before the Fires Take Them