Edgy, wistful, poignant. These words tumbled around in my head as I read your piece. Some of the glories of that sun-washed season, summer and its all too soon retirement can leave us wanting more. You nailed that. It reminded me of my own grappling with the shorter, darker days. That is a kind of grief that you express so beautifully, so poetically, so intuitively, that my arms were covered in goosebumps. Your writing is lovely, and sumptuous with a bit of witty snark to complete a piece of writing that was thoroughly satisfying and deeply delicious.
Bitchin' piece of neighborhood-pastoral shading..., and then a coda, a throwaway, a piece of errant self-denigration. Naughty, naughty, wicked girl. Got a sly touch of Dorothy Parker in you. Bit of a snigger worth sipping on. Delightful. Lovely. Looking forward to next cup.
The preceding comment was from my Sister-in-law Teri Connughton
Edgy, wistful, poignant. These words tumbled around in my head as I read your piece. Some of the glories of that sun-washed season, summer and its all too soon retirement can leave us wanting more. You nailed that. It reminded me of my own grappling with the shorter, darker days. That is a kind of grief that you express so beautifully, so poetically, so intuitively, that my arms were covered in goosebumps. Your writing is lovely, and sumptuous with a bit of witty snark to complete a piece of writing that was thoroughly satisfying and deeply delicious.
Bitchin' piece of neighborhood-pastoral shading..., and then a coda, a throwaway, a piece of errant self-denigration. Naughty, naughty, wicked girl. Got a sly touch of Dorothy Parker in you. Bit of a snigger worth sipping on. Delightful. Lovely. Looking forward to next cup.