As I drove across Connecticut yesterday, the leaves west of Hartford had all just come out, making pale yellow, lacy crowns on the treetops. For mile after mile, they graced the side of the road, bright and bridal. Further east, as the road climbed, the season retreated again to bare branches, as if spring had clutched back its favors. But not for long. If you watch carefully here, you can observe a maple going green in a single day, and it spreads in wild contagion as the neighboring species catch… Continue reading
Spring is a season of setbacks and waiting, with snow still arriving in April and trees barely budding, no matter how often we look to them, expecting more. Yet, like with writing, the days add up, and inevitably we’ll have to reach true warm weather and the familiar explosion of green.
I have, happily, reached the point where I have a complete first draft of my latest novel, and I’m onto revising. Every time that I work, a little more progress adds up, progress that I can actually see by… Continue reading