an old writer and his words

  • AND THE RAINS CAME

    It may sound odd, but what I miss mostis the spring rain, so short lived, alongthe roads in Highland Park in Rochester.You may say “but you live in Floridawhere the seasons are measured bywet and dry” and we do get rain, sometimesseemingly in Biblical proportions.and the Blue-winged Teals have returnedto our wetland now almost half…

    Lou Faber

  • SPRING RAIN

    The last flowers rain downfrom the cherry trees, a pervasivesadness announcing summer’s approach.We would welcome it, but wefear its possible wrath for allseasons show their anger to us.as if to cast blame on us for ignoringtheir beauty, their bounty, assumingtheir offerings will recur despiteour misbegotten changes to whatthey have always relied on, our arroganceand greed…

    Lou Faber

  • MOLDY

    Say what you will aboutthis modern age, beset with,well, it’s probably far easierto list what it is not beset with,but there are things from my youththat I do not miss at all.Like the copper molds that homeon the kitchen wall, one the shapeof a lobster, another an ornate ring.They were strange but reasonablydecorative items, but…

    Lou Faber