The Moment After Section

• BLOG— Our paper

  By Audrey HackettApril 10, 2018

  

  Almost 20 years later, I landed another job at another community paper. This one was in Yellow Springs, Ohio — perhaps you’ve heard of it — and the paper was well over 100 years old, with Quaker roots.

• BLOG— New light that is also old light

  By Audrey HackettMarch 13, 2018

  

  The moon this morning is a golden horn. To the south and west, the planets are shining — Jupiter, Venus. Yesterday at the same morning hour the moon was a creamy horn, caught, like an animal in a thicket, in a mesh of trees.

• BLOG— The rule of love

  By Audrey HackettFebruary 13, 2018

  

  When I was six — and eight, and 10, but never again after then — I made valentines for everybody in my class. Everybody did. The rule was that you liked everybody, even those you suspected you didn’t like.

• BLOG— Happy Hanukwanzamas!

  By Audrey HackettDecember 22, 2017

  

  Years ago I had a friend, culturally but not religiously Jewish, who devised a third greeting: “Happy Hanukwanzamas!” I was there the day he worked it out on a piece of paper, fitting the three words together.

• BLOG— A fresh field

  By Audrey HackettDecember 19, 2017

  

  In memory, snow fell all winter those first two years. Our backyard became a closet stuffed with bridal gowns, frothy white forms smothering every bush and tree. I loved the stacked inches atop the clean curves of honeysuckle, and the transformed hemlock, a dark Pegasus spreading white wings.

• BLOG— Raven, a reflection

  By Audrey HackettDecember 12, 2017

  

  Raven didn’t speak much about being sick. Instead, she brought my husband, a new friend, into her home studio. Brought out her pulps, her deckles, her tubs of finished papers — some textured, some translucent, some delicately veined like the inside of a wrist.

• BLOG— A dozen Halloween nights

  By Audrey HackettOctober 31, 2017

  

  One of the pleasures of being an adult is recalling the pleasures of childhood. You might think that’s one of the bummers of being an adult — but remembering can be full of its own pleasure.

• BLOG— ‘Somewhere outside, the horse’

  By Audrey HackettOctober 24, 2017

  

  I try, often without success, to hold in mind two perspectives, the cosmic and the personal. From a cosmic stance, my little griefs and triumphs don’t exist. Don’t exist! I am, you are, dust.

• BLOG— Black chimes, moving like branches

  By Audrey HackettOctober 10, 2017

  

  The jays wake up mouthy. The crows flap shouting out of sleep. Everyone has a voice. Especially the silent ones.

• BLOG— This river life

  By Audrey HackettOctober 3, 2017

  

  To be inside a fish’s October dream — there are worse fates!