Letters From the Editor

Editorial: The Squirrel Who (Almost) Stole Christmas

Editorial: The Squirrel Who (Almost) Stole Christmas

“A whispered chaos swirls in the mind of those who carry unmade decisions,” Emily P. Freeman writes.

And for those of us who feel the tension between outward signs of change—the frosty mornings, the wisps of wind through the cherry tree, the shifting light at end of day—and inward ones, we know this is true.

The days are shorter, but our to-do lists are longer; the natural world around us is slowing down, preparing for a season of darkness and quiet and rest, but we are moving faster, preparing for a season of light and holiday performances and dinner parties.

Editorial: The Six-Decision Cup of Coffee

Editorial: The Six-Decision Cup of Coffee

“A whispered chaos swirls in the mind of those who carry unmade decisions,” Emily P. Freeman writes.

And for those of us who feel the tension between outward signs of change—the frosty mornings, the wisps of wind through the cherry tree, the shifting light at end of day—and inward ones, we know this is true.

The days are shorter, but our to-do lists are longer; the natural world around us is slowing down, preparing for a season of darkness and quiet and rest, but we are moving faster, preparing for a season of light and holiday performances and dinner parties.

Editorial: The Practice of Slow Living

Editorial: The Practice of Slow Living

I know we're almost there when we reach this intersection.

We stopped here once, at the bottom of the hill, and I took this picture out the passenger window, which I later painted—"Country Road in Summer." Steve was driving and Rory was in the backseat going back and forth from window to window, ears flapping in the summer breeze. Every time we drive this way, through the hills of the Finger Lakes, I remember that moment in time as vividly as if it were a Polaroid.

Do you have places like this? Scenes that evoke such clear picture memories?

Editorial: A Season For ______

Editorial: A Season For ______

There’s a season for growing and a season for scaling back.
A season for doing and a season for undoing.
A season for reaching out and a season for reaching in.

There's a season for singing and a season for listening.
A season for leading and a season for following.
A season for going and a season for staying.

There’s a season for creating and a season for taking it all in.
A season for moving and a season for standing still.
A season for being and a season for becoming.

It can be subtle, that line in between. Is this a season of leading or one of following? Are we creating or recreating? Are we moving or standing still, with the world spinning around us?

It's hard to tell, sometimes.

Editorial: Hymn to Garrett Chapel

Editorial: Hymn to Garrett Chapel

We almost missed it driving in.

Tucked into the bluff, the peak of the slate roof is just above road level and was barely visible through the thick summer foliage.

We pulled onto the side of Skyline Drive to park. The air was still damp from the afternoon thunderstorm as we climbed down the stone steps to the access road.

Editorial: My Sicilian Grandmother

Editorial: My Sicilian Grandmother

My Sicilian grandmother was just over five feet tall, like me. She had thick brown hair and olive skin, like me, and she wore a ring on almost every finger.

"Mangia! Buon appetito!" she'd say, setting down an antipasto platter, a plate of warm arancini, or a slice of spaghetti pie made from leftovers.

Editorial: A Time to Dig Up

Editorial: A Time to Dig Up

Last week, a neighbor three doors down invited our dog, Rory over for a dog play date. While Rory and Red chased each other in a loop around the backyard, we admired the garden—azaleas, forsythias, pink flowering almond, and blue phlox. Hasta, wild violets, Japanese water iris, an old dogwood tree, and a large weeping willow in the middle of the backyard.

Editorial: When There Are No Easy Answers

Editorial: When There Are No Easy Answers

I've been reading The Next Right Thing by Emily P. Freeman. The book is about making decisions and creating space for your soul to breathe and I don't know about you, but I can always use the reminder that my soul needs to breathe.