We were surrounded by white caps, traveling on a long stretch of lake between two dense shorelines of pines, in the Canadian wilderness. Branches overhung the shallows. There was nowhere to stop. It was every canoe for itself. In seconds, a strong wind rushed our canoes as if a giant fan had switched on. Was … Continue reading The Boulder, 1981
summer
Stampede
The ghost never made an appearance, but she did make her feelings known. Read Amy Kierce's Circa 77.
The Hill
We lived near the bottom of a long hill, a hill that kept going forever. From the top of the hill came stories, evasions, mysteries that were never solved. I would sometimes look up the hill and wonder. Our own house was embedded into the hill. We sledded down our side yard in winter, mowed … Continue reading The Hill
Lily Dipping
It was the third week of our summer canoe trip. Eva and I were making our way with eight 13-year-olds and two counselors, aged 16 and 17. We were living among the loons and Canadian lakes with a paper map and tents and red canoes, eating from the cans we carried on our backs during … Continue reading Lily Dipping
Swim Lesson
I jumped out of the car and ran across the driveway, my sandaled feet slipping over the loose gravel. My Great Aunt Dotsie was taking down her stiff towels from the line. My Uncle Tommy was already counting for hamburgers and hotdogs, pretending not to see my younger sisters. The tiny yard smelled of charcoal … Continue reading Swim Lesson
Circa 77 