Life through my eyes
I was watching a PBS special about John Denver, and there was one thing about his life that reminded me of my dad. Denver first went to the Rocky Mountains as an adult, and his first wife, Anne, says that Denver (a.k.a. Deutschendorf, such a great German name!) was most at peace when he was … Read more…
For most of us growing up in the Dakotas, we’re only a few generations removed from those who tamed the virgin prairies with plows or fed the nations’ city dwellers with beef, wheat, corn, and pork. Our grandparents, great and great-great grandparents were farmers and ranchers or they were small town merchants who brought plumbing … Read more…
I live in Alabama now, and Alabama is covered in pine trees. They grow on low rolling hills, near marshy bogs and on sun baked plains. The loblolly pine is particularly prevalent, as it grows quickly, even in the red clay soils of the Deep South. The trees are judiciously harvested for various wood products … Read more…
My Black Hills, my home (part 1) When did I know that I belonged to the Hills? I’ve seen the pictures of day trips that my parents took when I was a toddler—a blanket laid beneath a tree while my dad climbed on some rocks nearby or my little head bobbing on my dad’s back … Read more…