I. presents not a single one under the tree nothing shopped for, trussed up, unwrapped. it is a lean christmas, and as the days go by we think, “soon. perhaps soon.” but the days go by and the bank account has other needs mom flies into town from Austin and we decorate the tree snip pine boughs from the spruce in our yard and fill the house with the scent of solstice and the easy silly laughter that comes only from years spent together under a common roof. on christmas eve we drive up Taos Mountain to the authentic bavarian […]
Image source. We went down the lane, by the body of the man in black, sodden now from the overnight hail, and broke into the woods at the foot of the hill. We pushed through these towards the railway without meeting a soul. The woods across the line were but the scarred and blackened ruins of woods; for the most part the trees had fallen, but a certain proportion still stood, dismal grey stems, with dark brown foliage instead of green.