As I write, I’m sitting by the little waterfall in my parents’ backyard, savoring the soothing sounds of falling water and the bees’ gentle buzz as they move from one mauve hosta trumpet to another. I marvel how freely, how fearlessly, they press themselves headfirst all the way into that
“In the beginning,” John writes. It’s a bit like, “Once upon a time”: a good beginning for a very good story. As we might expect, John’s words echo the beginning of Genesis, the earlier story of the world’s beginnings. In John’s retelling, though, the focus is different. It’s on a
Through the winter, I’ve heard the cawing of crows and the whistles of cardinals dressed in their Christmas-y red. But my favorite by far has been the confident opening notes and trills of the song sparrows. I’ve been grateful for their cheery music, awed that the small sparrows can survive—even
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