I live in part of Alice’s house. My studio window overlooks her garden. Beside my window is Alice’s sparrow bush, a great rounded mock-orange shrub, whose myriad stalks and twigs are of just the right gripping size for the feet of sparrows. Alice is nearly blind. She cannot see…
Author: Emily Carr
Two boys motoring to a near lake to swim invited, “Come along.” “Not to swim, thank you. Drop me on your way at that old forsaken farm in the woods.” I climbed out, their crazy old car wheezed away. I went through a broken gateway and up a grass-infested…
I was the only mother the nine little bullfinches had ever known. I stole my two bullfinch nests, one having four birdlings, the other five. I stole them while yet the birds were deaf, blind, and only half fledged. When first they heard and saw, they were in a…