The Hidden Lines of the Family Land We Shared

the map was filed in the county registry, and the orchard was whole.

I put on my coat, pulled my wool scarf tight around my neck, and stepped out onto the back porch.

At four o’clock, the wind began to rise from the gorge, carrying the scent of incoming rain and pine woodsmoke.

I walked along the outer perimeter of the property, following the gentle continue reading …