First Known When Lost

It was a clear, windy autumn morning on the western shore of the Isle of Skye.  I paused.  The person I was with continued walking through a...

When it comes to this business of growing old, I have no advice to give. This is the first time I've done it, so what do I know?  I pres...

As I am wont to do, I was recently contemplating the obvious:  where would the loveliness of the world be without all of its variations on b...

I am one of those who tends to believe that the World is going to Hell in a handbasket.  Some of you may share the same view.  But, as I hav...

Gentle readers, Time's winged chariot has brought us to August, which calls for a visit to my August poem.  As long-time visitors may re...

As I have observed here before, the older I get, the simpler Life seems to become.  I'm dumbfounded at the amount of extraneous luggage ...

I am, as the saying goes, "a dog person."  But I have been extremely fond of quite a few cats in my time.  For instance, there is ...

I suspect that my recommending Matthew Arnold's On Translating Homer (a series of lectures he delivered at Oxford in 1860) is not likely...

On the one hand, there is Matthew Arnold the quintessential Victorian of caricature:  the school inspector of high-minded sentiments and of ...

I tend to be surprised by things like a caterpillar deciding to cross a street. Or a hummingbird suddenly appearing to look in at me from th...