My truck, Mississippi River twilight, and Venus rising in the west. Some photographs are sharp. Others, like memories, are blurry. This one I snapped at random: the shadowy FJ silhouetted against a twilight sky, Venus hanging steady above. My old FJ Cruiser rested along the Mississippi River levee at Lone Oak Cemetery, back window openContinueContinue reading “Evening Light on the Levee”
Tag Archives: southern-life
When Weakness Becomes the Point
[Edited on March 10, 2026 for theological clarity. See below in the body of the text] A note: This piece followed on the heels of writing a cathartic exercise in pointing fingers at the cultural moment. Somewhere in the middle of that one, it occurred to me that while one finger was aimed outward, threeContinueContinue reading “When Weakness Becomes the Point”
This is a Song for Someone
This is New Year’s Eve, a time to celebrate endings and beginnings, but my heart’s just not in it. Maybe yours isn’t either. If you’re one of them, or if someone close to you is, maybe this piece will land like a small reminder that the light is still there. I know a handful ofContinueContinue reading “This is a Song for Someone”
Christmas Chaos at Turkey Spur (Featuring Old Ray)
Here’s a holiday tall tale from Jubal Blue, straight out of the piney woods of North Louisiana. I hope this gives you a little chuckle for your Christmas Eve. Enjoy! | Guest post by Jubal Blue | This story took place a few years back, but it started out normal enough…well, normal enough for theseContinueContinue reading “Christmas Chaos at Turkey Spur (Featuring Old Ray)”
Most Novembers I Break Down and Cry
“I can’t remember if we said goodbye.” That line from Emmylou Harris’s cover of “Goodbye” always gets me, and did again this morning, coffee in hand before the sun cleared the piney woods. It’s a simple lyric, almost plain-spoken, but it carries an unexpected weight. The kind that comes not from tragedy, but from uncertaintyContinueContinue reading “Most Novembers I Break Down and Cry”