All Posts By: Byron McCoy

               New year came.  Sun rose earlier than in day before, its break in dawn more northward in sign and movement in sky; and in the morning light and warmth of particular, peculiar winter, they labored together breaking ground in preparing for the spring.                In the open of lawn beside low, small painted shed […]

               “…I had yet to see myself become part of a story.  I had as yet no notion that life every now and then becomes literature—not for long, of course, but long enough to be what we best remember, and often enough so that what we eventually come to mean by life are those moments […]

               He returned to the story once again after years and time away.  Back to beginning, having read to end, he thought ahead to the beautiful parts—chapters and people, tales within tale, that moved and inspired most.                He thought to the magic woods of enchanting elves; tall, beautiful, and fair.  Lórien, Land of Gold; […]