Last night at dusk as I walked my dog on Riverside Drive, tiny bits of phosphorescence shone against the hedgerow bordering New York City’s four-mile-long Riverside Park, an urban oasis that stretches from 72nd to 158th Street along the Hudson River. I can’t remember the last time that I saw fireflies here, despite the fact that Dev… Continue reading Fireflies
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"Nothing that happens to a writer — however happy, however tragic — is ever wasted." ~ P.D. James
THE MEMOIR LIFE 