Dreams of Milk and Wine aka Crinum x herbertii

A friend visited last weekend.  He woke up in the night and wrote this little poem: “Milk and Wine,” the old man said. “It’s all I drink these days. Clarity of purpose, strength of bone.” “A strange request,” the waiter said. “But noble, and will do.” And he went over to the bar, to pour…

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Unwritten Plant History

I get to hang out with a lot of old guys.  I love them; they teach me.  But they also remind me that there’s a whole lost generation of men in between us, who should have been my mentors too. My imagination and awe for the WWII guys has been overstimulated this week.  I’m stunned…

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Morning Break? Is Re-shooting Photos a Break?

For a number of days of the last ten, I’ve been sequestered inside.   Re writing.   The editor at Timber Press sent back my manuscript for a final edit.   Well, 32 pages and about 40 hours of edits.  Done.   Great edits.  He said, ‘I’m trying to help you say what you want to say, more clearly.’   …

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