September 28, 2024
Scotch Plains From the Car Window
Scotch Plains looked better from the side street than from the main road. That is usually true of New Jersey towns. You have to miss the quickest way through.
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656 published posts across 11 pages.
September 19, 2024
The Patient Part of Fishing, September 2024
The line went out badly near Warinanco Park, and there was no way to pretend otherwise. Fishing has a way of making impatience visible. The water does not care how clean the cast looked in a person's head. I watched the…
September 16, 2024
A Home Front Note, September 2024
The thing that stayed with me was not a headline but a kitchen detail: rationing, blackout cloth, a careful hand with what was left. World War II can become too clean in memory if it is only told through victories. The…
September 12, 2024
The Smaller Platform, September 2024
The best part was one side street I did not plan to take. A bakery window, two people talking too close to the curb, a train time I had to check twice. That was enough.
September 3, 2024
Garwood and the Roads We Stop Seeing
Garwood looked ordinary from the road, which is usually when a place is easiest to underestimate. Union County keeps a lot of its memory in street names, rail crossings, old storefront shapes, and the odd bend of traffi…
September 2, 2024
Where Public Lives Begin, September 2024
The thought started at a bus stop, looking at the places people pass before anyone knows their name. Public lives can look inevitable from a distance. They never are. Everyone starts on some street, in some kitchen, und…
September 1, 2024
A Poem Beside the Coffee Cup, September 2024
I had George Herbert open with a marked envelope nearby and the room getting a little darker. The poem did not explain itself all at once. The better lines rarely do. They stay put while the reader shifts around in the…
August 31, 2024
A Booth Near the Window, August 2024
One open stool at the counter, one cup of coffee, one guy talking like the whole room had subscribed. I miss places where nobody had to turn the moment into a brand.
August 29, 2024
Passing Through Union
Union looked better from the side street than from the main road. That is usually true of New Jersey towns. You have to miss the quickest way through.
August 28, 2024
War Work Away From the Headlines, August 2024
The thing that stayed with me was not a headline but a kitchen detail: rationing, blackout cloth, a careful hand with what was left. World War II can become too clean in memory if it is only told through victories. The…
August 26, 2024
The Patient Part of Fishing, August 26, 2024
The line went out badly near Echo Lake, and there was no way to pretend otherwise. Fishing has a way of making impatience visible. The water does not care how clean the cast looked in a person's head. I watched the weat…
August 22, 2024
The Small Tools Behind Big Battles, August 2024
The thing that stayed with me was not a headline but a kitchen detail: rationing, blackout cloth, a careful hand with what was left. World War II can become too clean in memory if it is only told through victories. The…
August 21, 2024
The Line I Kept Carrying Around, August 2024
I had Emily Dickinson open with a church bulletin nearby and the room getting a little darker. The poem did not explain itself all at once. The better lines rarely do. They stay put while the reader shifts around in the…
August 20, 2024
Old Rail Lines and Local Memory, August 2024
Garwood looked ordinary from the road, which is usually when a place is easiest to underestimate. Union County keeps a lot of its memory in street names, rail crossings, old storefront shapes, and the odd bend of traffi…
August 18, 2024
Mountainside and the Roads We Stop Seeing
Mountainside looked ordinary from the road, which is usually when a place is easiest to underestimate. Union County keeps a lot of its memory in street names, rail crossings, old storefront shapes, and the odd bend of t…
August 18, 2024
A Home Front Note, August 2024
The thing that stayed with me was not a headline but a kitchen detail: rationing, blackout cloth, a careful hand with what was left. World War II can become too clean in memory if it is only told through victories. The…
August 17, 2024
A Fishing Note Near a small pond
The line went out badly near a small pond, and there was no way to pretend otherwise. Fishing has a way of making impatience visible. The water does not care how clean the cast looked in a person's head. I watched the w…
August 14, 2024
Reading Robert Frost With the Light Getting Low
I had Robert Frost open with a library receipt nearby and the room getting a little darker. The poem did not explain itself all at once. The better lines rarely do. They stay put while the reader shifts around in the ch…
August 12, 2024
The Patient Part of Fishing, August 2024
The line went out badly near Warinanco Park, and there was no way to pretend otherwise. Fishing has a way of making impatience visible. The water does not care how clean the cast looked in a person's head. I watched the…
July 29, 2024
Old Rail Lines and Local Memory, July 2024
New Providence looked ordinary from the road, which is usually when a place is easiest to underestimate. Union County keeps a lot of its memory in street names, rail crossings, old storefront shapes, and the odd bend of…
July 29, 2024
Prayer at the Kitchen Table, July 2024
The late hour started with cold coffee on the counter and no great feeling of readiness. I said the short prayer anyway. Not because the room changed, and not because I suddenly understood what to do next. Prayer is oft…
July 27, 2024
A Table in Fanwood
The table in Fanwood had a paper napkin under one leg and coffee that had been sitting too long. That is not a complaint. Some meals are remembered because the room makes room for a tired person. Neighborhood food is ne…
July 5, 2024
A Poem Beside the Coffee Cup, July 2024
I had Robert Frost open with cold coffee nearby and the room getting a little darker. The poem did not explain itself all at once. The better lines rarely do. They stay put while the reader shifts around in the chair. I…
July 3, 2024
What Supply Lines Leave Out, July 2024
The old war notes I was reading made me think less about speeches and more about boots, mud, and mail. World War I becomes too large to hold if it stays only on maps. The smaller details bring it back down to human size…
July 2, 2024
A Verse I Did Not Want to Rush, July 2024
Romans 8 showed up again today, this time with cold coffee on the counter in view. No big lesson. I just noticed that the line had more patience than I did.
June 30, 2024
What Supply Lines Leave Out, June 2024
The old war notes I was reading made me think less about speeches and more about boots, mud, and mail. World War I becomes too large to hold if it stays only on maps. The smaller details bring it back down to human size…
June 30, 2024
Byron After the Late Train, June 30, 2024
The page of Byron was sitting beside a pocket notebook, which was probably the right amount of drama for the room. Byron is easy to admire for the wrong reasons. The speed, the pose, the beautiful wound, the refusal to…
June 29, 2024
Where Public Lives Begin, June 2024
The thought started at a bus stop, looking at the places people pass before anyone knows their name. Public lives can look inevitable from a distance. They never are. Everyone starts on some street, in some kitchen, und…
June 28, 2024
A County Behind a Public Life, June 2024
The thought started at a bus stop, looking at the places people pass before anyone knows their name. Public lives can look inevitable from a distance. They never are. Everyone starts on some street, in some kitchen, und…
June 27, 2024
Church Sign, Red Light, One Line, June 2024
James 1 was the page I opened to, and I almost closed it too quickly. Some days a familiar line only needs a second chance.
June 26, 2024
A Poem Beside the Coffee Cup, June 2024
I had William Blake open with a church bulletin nearby and the room getting a little darker. The poem did not explain itself all at once. The better lines rarely do. They stay put while the reader shifts around in the c…
June 22, 2024
Wind in the Line, June 22, 2024
Stopped near Nomahegan Park long enough to check the water and make one bad cast. No fish. No tragedy. The wind had better timing than I did.
June 15, 2024
One Stool Open, June 2024
The old counter had better manners than most new rooms. It let people sit without asking what the sitting was for.
June 4, 2024
Byron After the Late Train, June 2024
The page of Byron was sitting beside a church bulletin, which was probably the right amount of drama for the room. Byron is easy to admire for the wrong reasons. The speed, the pose, the beautiful wound, the refusal to…
May 30, 2024
A Poem Beside the Coffee Cup, May 30, 2024
I had Walt Whitman open with a chipped mug nearby and the room getting a little darker. The poem did not explain itself all at once. The better lines rarely do. They stay put while the reader shifts around in the chair.…
May 28, 2024
Church Sign, Red Light, One Line, May 28, 2024
James 1 was the page I opened to, and I almost closed it too quickly. Some days a familiar line only needs a second chance.
May 21, 2024
A Poem Beside the Coffee Cup, May 2024
I had Walt Whitman open with cold coffee nearby and the room getting a little darker. The poem did not explain itself all at once. The better lines rarely do. They stay put while the reader shifts around in the chair. I…
May 19, 2024
Rahway and the Roads We Stop Seeing
Rahway looked ordinary from the road, which is usually when a place is easiest to underestimate. Union County keeps a lot of its memory in street names, rail crossings, old storefront shapes, and the odd bend of traffic…
May 16, 2024
Mountainside on a Quiet Morning
I walked a little through Mountainside with gray light moving across the street. The older blocks had that New Jersey mix of pride and wear. A good front step, a tired sign, a small business opening its door. Nothing dr…
May 14, 2024
Summit and the Roads We Stop Seeing
Summit looked ordinary from the road, which is usually when a place is easiest to underestimate. Union County keeps a lot of its memory in street names, rail crossings, old storefront shapes, and the odd bend of traffic…
May 10, 2024
What Supply Lines Leave Out, May 2024
The old war notes I was reading made me think less about speeches and more about boots, mud, and mail. World War I becomes too large to hold if it stays only on maps. The smaller details bring it back down to human size…
May 8, 2024
Goldfinch by the Curb
Saw a goldfinch near the road and almost missed it. It was there, then it was gone. The street felt a little less ordinary for about five seconds.
May 7, 2024
The Cardinal Near the Road
A cardinal held still near the road longer than I expected. Traffic kept moving. A door shut somewhere. The bird or animal did not seem interested in becoming a lesson. That is probably why I noticed it. Suburban New Je…
April 8, 2024
Prayer at the Kitchen Table, April 2024
The evening started with a grocery receipt curling near the sink and no great feeling of readiness. I said the short prayer anyway. Not because the room changed, and not because I suddenly understood what to do next. Pr…
April 7, 2024
The Line I Kept Carrying Around, April 2024
I had Emily Dickinson open with a folded napkin nearby and the room getting a little darker. The poem did not explain itself all at once. The better lines rarely do. They stay put while the reader shifts around in the c…
March 26, 2024
A Poem Beside the Coffee Cup, March 2024
I had Christina Rossetti open with a folded napkin nearby and the room getting a little darker. The poem did not explain itself all at once. The better lines rarely do. They stay put while the reader shifts around in th…
March 25, 2024
Prayer at the Kitchen Table, March 2024
The late hour started with an old pen on the kitchen table and no great feeling of readiness. I said the short prayer anyway. Not because the room changed, and not because I suddenly understood what to do next. Prayer i…
March 9, 2024
Passing Through Plainfield
Plainfield looked better from the side street than from the main road. That is usually true of New Jersey towns. You have to miss the quickest way through.
March 8, 2024
Discipline Before Mood, March 2024
The shoes were by the door before I felt like walking. That is usually how health works for me. The useful thing has to be started before the mood agrees to it. Sleep, food, walking, lifting, water, less noise. None of…
February 21, 2024
Ration Books and Ordinary Nerve, February 2024
The thing that stayed with me was not a headline but a kitchen detail: rationing, blackout cloth, a careful hand with what was left. World War II can become too clean in memory if it is only told through victories. The…
February 19, 2024
A Poem Beside the Coffee Cup, February 2024
I had Emily Dickinson open with a church bulletin nearby and the room getting a little darker. The poem did not explain itself all at once. The better lines rarely do. They stay put while the reader shifts around in the…
February 18, 2024
James 1 in the Middle of the Day, February 2024
James 1 showed up again today, this time with cold coffee on the counter in view. No big lesson. I just noticed that the line had more patience than I did.
February 16, 2024
A Quick Note on Isaiah 40
Read Isaiah 40 while the house was still half-noisy. I did not get far. One sentence was enough to interrupt the mood I was carrying.
February 16, 2024
A Food Note From Winfield Park
The table in Winfield Park had a paper napkin under one leg and coffee that had been sitting too long. That is not a complaint. Some meals are remembered because the room makes room for a tired person. Neighborhood food…
February 12, 2024
A Short Prayer Before Work, February 2024
The morning started with an old pen on the kitchen table and no great feeling of readiness. I said the short prayer anyway. Not because the room changed, and not because I suddenly understood what to do next. Prayer is…
February 11, 2024
Psalm 23 After a Long Errand
Cold coffee sat next to the open page, and Psalm 23 did not need much decoration. I read it slowly because I have a bad habit of making familiar words too easy. A verse can become furniture if a person only walks past i…
February 8, 2024
A Quick Bite in Roselle
The receipt was too long for the meal, which somehow felt right. A good counter can forgive a rushed lunch.
January 26, 2024
When Isaiah 40 Stays on the Table
A chipped mug sat next to the open page, and Isaiah 40 did not need much decoration. I read it slowly because I have a bad habit of making familiar words too easy. A verse can become furniture if a person only walks pas…
January 25, 2024
Blue Jay by the Curb
Saw a blue jay near the road and almost missed it. It was there, then it was gone. The street felt a little less ordinary for about five seconds.
January 23, 2024
Leaving the Main Square, January 2024
The best part was one side street I did not plan to take. A bakery window, two people talking too close to the curb, a train time I had to check twice. That was enough.