As always, you have written this so eloquently. I don’t have words to describe how much my friendship with you and the other Amy mean to me. Your visit meant so much. I love that we can still share so much with each other and that we are all still friends! Even after I tortured you with that hike….
As you said so beautifully, I treasure my friendships, especially with you and Amy. They endure, even over a lifetime of setting down roots, being divided and transplanted, and a little drooping with age. This weekend was a much needed feeding and watering of our connections. I loved every minute with you two, even in mile eight. - The other Amy
Anna, I appreciate your essays so much! You manage to put into words my own sense of mid-life, divorced, young-adult children ness. Thank you!
I *love* the poem!! It's going to be rooting in my brain for a while.
The last section connects me to an ongoing conversation at work about Beech blights (we currently have 2) and how, perhaps, losing our beeches is the natural progression. They filled in our over-timbered, over-farmed, gravelled-out spaces. For 60+ years their detritus has been building up soil, their roots holding in the stream banks, healing the soil we stripped.
You are a gardener of friends and adventures. That was a good poem story at the end.
I loved this! As usual, beautifully written about experiences that I feel come from my own life. Thank you for sharing.
As always, you have written this so eloquently. I don’t have words to describe how much my friendship with you and the other Amy mean to me. Your visit meant so much. I love that we can still share so much with each other and that we are all still friends! Even after I tortured you with that hike….
Once I realized I likely wouldn't die, I thoroughly enjoyed myself!
Well….walking up or downhill for pleasure is a concept that has always eluded me…but, as always, a good read.
Lemlmtš, Bill.
As you said so beautifully, I treasure my friendships, especially with you and Amy. They endure, even over a lifetime of setting down roots, being divided and transplanted, and a little drooping with age. This weekend was a much needed feeding and watering of our connections. I loved every minute with you two, even in mile eight. - The other Amy
I love how you extended the metaphor all the way out!
Anna, I appreciate your essays so much! You manage to put into words my own sense of mid-life, divorced, young-adult children ness. Thank you!
I *love* the poem!! It's going to be rooting in my brain for a while.
The last section connects me to an ongoing conversation at work about Beech blights (we currently have 2) and how, perhaps, losing our beeches is the natural progression. They filled in our over-timbered, over-farmed, gravelled-out spaces. For 60+ years their detritus has been building up soil, their roots holding in the stream banks, healing the soil we stripped.
I was so pleased to find that poem! I’d never heard of the poet before. And thanks for your comments!