There is nothing like a bike ride up and down the hills of Juillac. I wave to my neighbors in their fields, the poignant September light reminding us that summer has ended and harvest is near.
I always finish my tour with a roll through the vineyard for a quick, reassuring check; pluck a few warm, fat, juicy grapes to quench my thirst.
We are now in Le Temps des Cerises. “Cherry Time” conjures up everything about these rare, perfect days in May and […]
Household under self imposed CWQ (Creative Winter Quarantine). A few rituals for hiding beneath the surface of regular life: Chain oneself to […]
The oddness of it first struck me when the mason asked if he could pluck a few green things out of the […]
Thirty years ago my eldest brother was a deer hunter in Michigan. He tracked alone in the woods after a snowfall and […]
