That December, the stark Northern landscape offered a visceral draw for me... I was enticed by its barrenness... It felt comforting -- simple, spacious.
We fill ourselves on resolutions saying this is the year it will take, the year I'll mean what I say. I'll do better. But why didn’t we do better all year?
What would make me think America was truly exceptional? If one of its vainglorious political, civic or religious leaders would have stood up and said, “In light of the fact that so many of our fellow citizens are living in poverty this season, I propose that instead of giving one another lavish ...
But the current me notes the distance between the lovers’ voices, questions buried so deep down that rarely is another allowed to touch them, if ever. Do they really know each other? What are they really thinking at this moment?