Barbara Falconer Newhall

Veteran journalist Barbara Falconer Newhall riffs on life as she knows it.

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."

Tulips and Sex — Writing as If Everyone I Know Were Dead

By

looking at pink tulips just opening from the underside at Mountain View Cemetery in Oakland, CA. Photo by BF Newhall

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

By

The bark has fallen off a dying valley oak tree at Bishop's Ranch, Sonoma county, CA, revealing the sun-bleached grain of the heartwood. Photo by BF Newhall

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.