The rural mailboxes that marked the turning point to farmhouse laneways dotting the Kansas countryside were landmarks to those wandering...
When They Ring Those Golden Bells Days fall away like apples from October tress cheeks, full and ablush, kissing silver from delicate wrists...
Exhaust Down the country road I witnessed a lengthy cordial visit. An older man was gabbing colorfully with the farmer’s...
Emerging from the fog bank, the Beatrix appeared before them, a sleeping leviathan suddenly filling their vision in the twilight...
The question may be raised why we chose precisely the past of a city to compare with the past of...
William Shakespeare managed to pack an awful lot of drama into his graveyard scene in Hamlet. In fewer than three...
The Last Mile I ran from tail flicking Friesians their eyes, pools of nowhere, and when everywhere wore off I...
When Bob was married, he went hunting two or three times a year, but just getting out seemed more important...
How peculiar. Before, David had turned off the main road, walked up the potholed lane, climbed over a rickety stile,...
Ciboloto Miss Yang gone to the Western Hemisphere never been back since seeds on her desk have sprouted and grown...
I was twelve when I figured out God. Mom was a devout Presbyterian who taught Sunday school. Every evening she...
THE PARLOR is a series on The Milk House that embraces the lighter side of rural life. You can find...