I remember the smell of gasoline and hot vinyl seats like it was just yesterday. The windows were rolled all the way down, the wind was roaring through the cabin of our old station wagon, and the AM radio was crackling with static as a distant, sweet tune drifted in from a local station. The […]
The Iron Veins of a Growing Nation Whenever I take a walk down by the old rail yards near Sacramento, I like to stop and just listen. If you stand quiet enough, past the hum of the modern diesel engines and the chatter of folks waiting on the platform, you can almost hear the ghosts […]
The Scent of Summer and the Pull of Tradition The late afternoon air changes when July rolls around. You can step out onto your front porch, take a deep breath, and instantly smell it. It is the unmistakable scent of hickory wood and charcoal catching fire. Down the block, a car door slams, followed by […]
The Magic of Sunday Morning I close my eyes and I can still smell it. It is early morning, and the sun is barely up over the city. The scent of garlic sizzling gently in olive oil drifts down the narrow hallway of our apartment. It wakes me up better than any alarm clock ever […]
The Spark of the Outdoors The crisp morning air holds a scent you can never quite capture in a photograph. It is a rich, earthy blend of damp pine needles, morning dew, and the faint, lingering woodsmoke from the night before. I have walked under these towering green canopies for more decades than I care […]
Spring and autumn are the twin heartbeats of the American landscape. When the deep winter frost finally yields, the sweet smell of freshly turned dirt signals the glorious arrival of baseball opening day. When the lush green leaves of summer turn to brittle gold and crimson, that same crisp air calls folks out to the […]
The Smell of Cut Grass and the Sound of Spring Spring arrives not with the blooming of tulips or the melting of the final winter snow, but with the distinct, hollow sound of an aluminum bat making contact with a leather ball. I have sat on these exact same metal bleachers for over sixty years. […]
Listen closely. You can hear it before you even open the heavy glass doors. The low rumble of a heavy resin ball rolling down varnished wood. Then comes the sharp chaotic crash of ten pins scattering into the pit. It is a sound that echoes right to the marrow of my bones. It is the […]
Let me tell you a story about Elm Street in the deep winter of 1967. The frost was thick on the windows. The wind howled through the bare branches of the oak trees. Most folks stayed huddled inside their warm homes, keeping the radiators hissing and the fireplaces burning. Back then, a Sunday in late […]
The Restless Rhythm of Our Homeland I have spent my days watching the dust rise and settle across the vast stretches of this country. If you sit still long enough on a wooden porch, listening to the evening crickets and the distant rumble of the highway, you begin to notice a rhythm. I have seen […]