via tons of land And then the wind blew.

poem by Dave Morrison I’ve been listening to the dark for hours. At first it was fine sand sifting over old stones, then warm wind through a rusted screen, then heavy mist falling on the roof of a convertible. The night was an aquarium filled with stones, each one a worry, and the sound of […]

poem by Dave Morrison The wind hisses through the trees like a great dark snake coiling around the house, patient and cool. The green leaves of summer are rattling brown husks, ghosts crouch on roof ridges and gnaw acorns, the dim glow of the streetlights looks like the lights of a sinking ship. “Let go,” […]

photographs and text by Jennifer Steen Booher You may remember reading about our plans to renovate the house and rent it out this summer? We did, and it went really well. We had awesome renters, and the house looked great. I posted photos, everyone oohed and ahhed, and I felt like a design blogger. But of course […]

poem by Dave Morrison Wall of fog, sheets of rain; this day has all the components of an old house – the lightning a cracked mirror, the sun a dim bulb, the wind a spirit moving from room to room.