Pruners in hand, I stood below the massive holly tree and stared up at the mishmash of green berries and pointy glossy leaves shooting from the thick, vertical canes of  …

My favorite Spring garden ritual is starting my tomato seeds. In late March, I fill ten little pots with a mixture of peat and earth-scented compost. Then I press down  …

It’s been nine years since my husband, Marty, and I relocated to Towamensing Trails, here in the Pocono Mountains, and we have enjoyed observing nature’s wonders from our little clearing  …

I was 9-1/2 years old in April, 1970 when my family moved from our two-bedroom home on a tiny city lot to a brick foursquare on three acres of land.  …

I was a bunny-loving little girl. Every night—without fail—my mother would read me the Runaway Bunny or Beatrix Potter’s The Tale of Peter Rabbit. Since I had an older  …

Lounging on the deck, I watched the sun sink behind the spruce trees in the western sky. My mind was racing with thoughts. Why didn’t he tell me? We’d become  …

Scientists—who have a tendency to stomp the poetry out of any experience—now know what makes the garden smell so luscious after a rain.  …

The year was 1962. My dad and I were standing on our front lawn. Arms crossed, he surveyed the scene before him, a grim look on his face. “These weeds  …

When, aged 40, I had my youngest son, I was considered an “older mother” (nowadays I would have to be another decade along to qualify), and the birth was considered  …

Highland Lake Inn in Flat Rock, North Carolina, was built as a private home in 1845 and named Solitude. It has shed many identities, lodged its share of famous people  …