I took a late afternoon camera walk in the woods the other day. The sun had dropped low in the sky, so the light was soft and was coming at everything sideways. Read more.
DON'T MISS!
I've written hundreds and hundreds of posts over the years. To help you find your way to the best of the best, I've tagged my favorites "Don't Miss!" Scroll down here to find them.
Another way to locate Riffs on Life that you might enjoy is to click above on your favorite category – "My Ever-Changing Family," perhaps, or "Funny Button." You can also use the search box located way up top to hunt for stories by topic. There's fun reading at "garden," "aging," "kids" and, of course, "Jon."
I Brake for Floor Plans — I Like to See How Those Other People Live
It’s Sunday morning. I pull the New York Times Magazine from the fat stack of newspapers on the breakfast table, fully intending to read the informative, thought-provoking articles inside. But I get no farther than page two, because that’s where the real estate ads are – the ones with the floor plans. Read more.
A Thousand Goddesses–Some Nice, Some Not So Nice–Take Your Pick
I wish I had known Patricia Monaghan. She died a year and a half ago after a rich life as a poet, author, Goddess scholar, and pioneer and mentor in the contemporary women’s spirituality movement. She was an academic, yes, but also a hands-on kind of woman, as concerned with the temperature of her root cellar as the depth of her research. And that research is deep . . . Read more.
The Sad State of the Supermarket Strawberry
I’m worried about the strawberry. It’s too late for the tomato. Its innards were transformed into colorless, flavorless – but easily shippable – pulp decades ago. Which is why I’m concerned about the strawberry. Is it going the way of the tomato? Read more.
The Weekend I Talked — And the Kids Listened
You know your kids have turned into grown-ups when they listen to your advice. I don’t mean take your advice. I mean listen – gently and kindly – as you talk away . . . Read more.
Tulips and Sex — Writing as If Everyone I Know Were Dead
I want to write about tulips today. I don’t want to write about sex. The trouble is, for me, writing about tulips means writing about sex: something about their juicy curves brings erotic metaphors to my particular mind. I had thought that once my mother — and father — were no longer alive and reading over my shoulder, I’d be able to write my heart out, but . . . Read more.
Dead Stuff – Which I Will Be Too One of These Days
The fifth-century Saint Jerome kept a human skull on his desk to remind him of his mortality – memento mori. But if you’re like me and you like to take walks in the woods, you don’t need a skull taking up space on your desk to remind you that sooner or later everything dies, including you. That’s because the woods are full of dead stuff. Read more.
