It was the chainsaw I heard first, of course. She lay in chunks—some on the east side of the road, most on the west. I counted 50 rings ...

Everything has changed. For as I go for my morning saunter, I see them. The first green shoots of grass. It is misty and mysterious out ...

I have recently travelled to one of my ancestral homelands—the one that grows magnolia trees and backyard crawfish ...