Sandrine’s mother greets us at the door. My brother and I leave behind a small crowd of children pointing and yelling “Muzungus!” They must wonder why two Americans have driven all the way up a nameless road to their neighborhood along the outskirts of Kigali, Rwanda. Sandrine watches as we enter. Her large brown eyes dart about the room like… Read More
For three hours I had jumped over swarms of African ants, slipped up muddy ravines, and clung to vines of stinging nettle. At last I teetered on the summit of a volcanic ridge 8,000 feet above sea level. With my last ounce of breath I yelped “Hallelujah.” I was eager to reclaim a healthy image of myself after suffering weeks… Read More
My peonies have curled up for another winter’s sleep. Knobby dahlia bulbs have been dug and tucked into bed inside a basement shoebox. All the self-seeding cherry tomatoes have been harvested. But in the middle of my Michigan garden, there is an open space I leave it to its own resources. That place has already been claimed. . … Read More