Vignettes Short musings from everyday life.
The House on the Marsh
At Ocracoke I like to go for walks, discovering roads and paths I hadn't been down or had just plumb forgotten. Yesterday I wandered down a road I hadn't been … Read More
Rain Was General All Over Asheville
For me afternoons are my low point. If I'm depressed or feeling a little down, chances are it's the afternoon. One drizzly afternoon, as I started out on my walk, … Read More
Listening to Roberta
Sad to hear Roberta Flack has died. In 1974. I was a freshman at Furman University, a small Baptist school outside of my hometown of Greenville SC. My friend and … Read More
Young People's Anti-Deportation March
I'd received an email that a group of young people had organized a pro-immigrant protest downtown, and out of concern that the event might be targeted by anti-immigrant folks, it … Read More
Talking to Strangers
Today Connie and I walked around Beaver Lake, through the woods and following along the shore, a good walk. When we got back to the car Connie realized she'd dropped … Read More
The Wizards Gather in San Miguel de Allende
We were the first to arrive at Agavia 53, the cozy narrow slice of a restaurant perched on a hillside. The waiter, a young energetic man, said we could choose … Read More
The Lamp Doctor
I always thought it was an elegantly simple lamp. But as lamps are wont to do, it developed a short. If you switched it on carefully and in the right … Read More
Listening to Emmylou
It was 1980, nearly Christmas. I went to visit my friend Paula who roomed with Connie in Mars Hill. Fell hard for the mountains and got a job in Spruce … Read More
Gratitude
We arrived home after a week visit with our family in Mexico City. We weren’t prepared for how cold it had turned in Asheville. Neither did we know that airport … Read More
The Little Things
Our marriage is measured out in episodes of Morse, Endeavor, Vera, Foyle’s War, Unforgiven, Shetland, D.I. Ray, The Crown, Annika, Call the Midwife, Luther, The Durrell’s in Corfu, Seaside Hotel, … Read More
Still Standing
An older couple were walking up our street when they passed one of my favorite trees, a beautiful old American basswood that stands in front of our neighbor’s house. The … Read More
Night Before the Storm
While we await the End Times, Grover decided this was perfect weather to dig for voles and such. Now that he’s safely back in our kitchen, he beseeches everyone to … Read More
Generosity
A week after Helene came though, Connie and I walked downtown. Although stores and businesses appeared intact, the city felt eerily vacant, especially given the usual thrum of visitors crowding … Read More
Week after Helene
We were hesitant to leave, but after a week of no power or water and no cell, Connie and I drove to Atlanta to spend two nights with Ruth and … Read More
Aftermath
Friday. A gorgeous fall day. I walked through our neighborhood on my way to vote. I passed rows of neatly sawed limbs stacked along the curbs. Three weeks before in … Read More
Into the Sunlight
A few days ago I walked over Sunset Mountain, through one of those Van Gogh autumn paintings with gnarled limbs and whorls of leaves. The wind roared through the trees, … Read More
Saying Goodbye to a Friend
Our neighbors had to cut down a beautiful hundred year-old hemlock that shaded their yard and also shaded ours. It had succumbed to the insidious woolly adelgid. Our neighbors said … Read More
I Do What I Can
I started up Sunset Mountain and noticed an older man get out of his car, shoulder a very big pack and, leaning into his hiking sticks, head up Cherokee, a … Read More
The Song of Cicadas
Their song conjures those long hot Kool-aid days of Greenville summers. The ecstatic drone of the cicadas provided the reverb as we splashed, tromped and bushwhacked up creeks, following them … Read More
Something to Look Forward To
They say find joy in the small things, and for the thirty springs I’ve been walking or jogging my same route through the neighborhood, I’ve looked forward to passing this … Read More
On Being Seen
I was walking down Sunset Mountain when a car slowed beside me. The driver leaned out his window and said a bear was up ahead. “It’s probably fine,” he said. … Read More
Elegy for a Stove
This week we said good-bye to a dear, loyal friend which fed our family for 30 years, having grilled, fried, simmered, boiled, baked and roasted some 40,000 meals, and boiled … Read More
Coming Home
Midnight. Nearly home from Mexico on the last leg to Asheville, presided over by an older flight attendant whose Southern accent is thicker than mine. Out our window, we see … Read More
Good Company
I talk to myself. A lot. I don’t know if it has to do with being a writer and spending a lot of time alone or a function of getting … Read More
A Wish
I passed by a big section of houseless woods when I chanced upon this fellow. He paused long enough for me to pull out my phone. Then he vanished. It’s … Read More
A Blue Streak
As an introvert, I’m always impressed by people who talk a lot. How do they do it? How do they think of all they have to say? Or is it … Read More
The Taj Mahal
I’m not sure I ever wholly believed it was real. It had always felt more of a mythological place. When we first arrived it was cloaked in morning fog, making … Read More
Angels in Disguise
Ruth was taking a long weekend from au pairing in Italy and decided to visit Paris. She sent me pictures from Shakespeare and Company, maybe the most famous bookstore in … Read More
Loot
On my walk, I found a chestnut. I rolled it around in my hand and put it in my pocket. Then I realized spiny chestnut burrs were all around me. … Read More
Little Switzerland
On a walk up a muddy road on a chilly November day, we pass a worn moss-covered sign nailed to an old pine that reads “… RIVATE … OAD”, reminding … Read More
Well, Where Is It?
I was sitting at the dining room table, reading student stories and Connie was in the kitchen. The front door swings open and two middle-aged women, purses on their arms, … Read More
American in New Delhi
Beyond the gates of our hotel, a cacophony of horns, Gershwin’s “American in Paris” or “American in New Delhi.” India is the world’s most populous country, New Delhi the world’s … Read More
Ganesha
On our tour of India, we stayed in nice places, which meant, no matter our fatigue or sensory overload, we always had a good meal and quiet room waiting at … Read More
How Can We Help You?
Many years ago, Mary Martha, Connie’s mother, bought a house in Asheville and was looking for a church that might fit her. So Connie took her to the First Baptist … Read More
Look Who's Talking
So sometimes when I’m writing I read my characters’ dialogue aloud. It’s become second nature and sometimes I don’t even know I’m doing it. I was working on a scene. … Read More
Moni and Sumi in New Delhi
When we arrived in New Delhi at the beginning of our India trip, Radha’s parents, Moni and Sumi, had a reception with delicious Indian food at their beautiful apartment across … Read More
Just So
When Connie and I sit and watch TV at night, Grover always has to rearrange pillows in a chair or on the couch. Sometimes it involves some pretty elaborate maneuvering. … Read More
Oh Bother
I’d been writing on our shady deck when I heard a commotion down below. I leaned over the railing and saw a mother bear and two cubs. When she saw … Read More
Hay Is for Horses
On my walk I passed a woman coming the other way. I smiled and said, “Hey.” “Hello, ” she said. Then she fixed me with her gaze and said, “Hay … Read More
A Book Worth Stealing
My heart leapt. Between Moby Dick and To the Lighthouse was Debby, a beautiful novel by Max Steele, published in 1950. Max, a distant cousin, taught creative writing at UNC … Read More
Making a Living
A few years ago, Connie spotted this sign on this long dead tree we passed on our walk up on Sunset Mountain. Neither of us had heard the word, which … Read More
Passion Flower
I was just a boy when I first came upon a Passion Flower, blooming in my uncle’s fence. It didn’t look real to me, like an artist’s rendering of a … Read More
Hemingway
When we visited Ketchum, Idaho I learned Hemingway visited there to fish, hunt and escape publicity. He made good friends and in ’59 moved there with his wife Mary. He’s … Read More
Definitely
"If a pit viper is alone in a room with a hot air balloon, it is definitely going to go over and bite it." Max Hays, from my notebook April … Read More
Bridges
I always like bridges on trails. They’re interesting interruptions, little events in themselves with a beginning, a middle and an end. I like the hollow sounds your steps make as … Read More
Another Covid Breakfast Conversation
"Do you hear that?" Connie says."Hear what?" I say. We’re quiet for a minute, listening.“That really high sound?” I ask.“Yes!”“I don’t think that’s anything, ” I hear myself say. “I’m … Read More
Greenheads
Ocracoke. I went on a long morning walk down a sandy road that follows the marsh and finally leads to the ocean. A fisherman or two passed by in their … Read More
In-between
This is what happens. I’m making a cup of tea to sit down to write. Not sure what I’ll write. I’m in-between drafts. So I think I’ll write something short, … Read More
Innocence of Ears
One morning I was writing out on the deck when this little guy dropped in. He literally dropped in, tumbling over the fence and landing in our Adirondack chair. A … Read More
The Optimist
Connie and I were downtown to do a little shopping, and on our way home were walking along Lexington Avenue when we passed a young couple, as the woman said … Read More
The Inchworm
One evening we were on the back deck eating dinner when I noticed an inch worm swaying on a thread in front of my face. He hung there dangling from … Read More
Treasures
I was working at the dining room table when I heard an odd tinkling sound somewhere in the house. Later I heard a fluttering. I looked up, a wren was … Read More
Sugar
Several years ago, on one chilly afternoon in February, Ruth, Connie and I decided to go to Dobra Tea downtown. I ordered the Lapsang Souchong about which the menu said, … Read More
First Typewriter
My parents gave me my first typewriter when I was six. The keys are just for show. The way you type with it is to dial a letter or a … Read More
Familiar Strangers
I was walking on Sunset Mountain and passed a couple coming from the other direction. They smiled and said hello. As they passed I heard him whisper, “Do you know … Read More
Old Delhi
We visited the Baha’i Lotus Temple which couldn’t have been more tranquil with its expanse of lovely landscaping and openness. We attended a brief service in the Temple, in which … Read More
Big Creek Trail
We’d been swallowed by the house. It was early Covid days, and folks were gradually emerging from quarantine. So with trails opening up we drove over to the Great Smokies … Read More
Aunt Eddy and the Copperhead
Aunt Eddy, my great great aunt, lived with her brother Uncle Cleve across from the old Furman campus in Greenville. My surrogate grandparents, I spent many weekends playing all over … Read More
The Doors of Perception
I’ve never read Huxley’s iconic memoir about taking mescalin. But I’ve come across The Doors of Perception dozens of times in the musty aisles of used bookstores. When I saw … Read More
A Visitor
Grover was barking his weird growly bark and we knew what it was before we looked. This big fellow was carefully helping himself to the bird feeder which we’ll have … Read More
Marmalade
I woke in the middle of the night and instead of the parade of worries that are usually lined up waiting for me, I thought, “Marmalade! That’s what I’ll have … Read More
One of Those Teachers
My notebook November 15, 2002: Walking Max and Ruth into school. Max is in fifth grade and Ruth in second. Max is talking about a quiz his teacher sent home. … Read More
Grover
Sometimes I’ll get the feeling someone is watching me. It’s often when I’m working. And I’ll look up into Grover’s laser stare from across the room. He’s silently willing me … Read More
First Meeting Connie
Today we went to Lunsford Festival in Mars Hill. I have such warm associations with the place, where I first met Connie in 1980. She lived in an apartment with … Read More
Whirling Dervish
I come to a break in the trees where you can see downtown. Nearby somebody is playing a trumpet. I notice the occasional strained note, it’s a difficult instrument. Whoever … Read More
Raise the Blinds
My office has always been a little dark since we moved here 30 years ago. Today I wanted more natural light, but the lighter rooms in the house were engaged. … Read More
The Bike
As a little boy I spent a lot of time playing in creeks that eventually led to Cleveland Park and the Reedy River, dirty and smelly, but a river nevertheless. … Read More
Driving Home from Wildacres
After a week of teaching up at Wildacres, I drive home by the Parkway. How I always go home after a week up there. It's slow and gives me time … Read More