A gardener’s fondness for his Japanese maple becomes a bittersweet reminder of life’s impermanence.
I need to remember to hold my eyes and heart open to the wonder of the world — just as my father did
For this writer, it seems that the secret to the good life is that less is more
Among the bare-branched trees, writes Jim Dodson, nature speaks my favorite language.
Church hymns, flannel shirts and briar pipes—I share today’s simple pleasures with the generations before me. by Jim Dodson A dear friend I hadn’t seen in far too long and I were having lunch outdoors, safely distanced. She sipped her…