Did you ever have a special place where you liked to hang out? A place to which you could retreat when you needed to be alone and think or pray? Perhaps it was an attic or basement or other quiet room. Perhaps a garden seat or the hidden mossy spot under a weeping willow.
My special places have always been outdoors. When I was quite young, I would climb under the blue spruce in our yard or lie on the grass next to the dogwood tree. When I got a bit older, I walked over the tiny hill in our backyard to a little hidden nook of ferns and wildflowers guarded by Douglas fir and maples. And finally, when my parents judged me old enough, I ventured out into The Rightaway, our name for the acres of woods that were part of the railroad right-of-way behind our house and which have now been preserved as part of the Springwater Corridor. There I birdwatched and learned the names of the flowers. I explored the trails, looked for tadpoles in the pond, learned to avoid the nettles and poison oak, and always rejoiced in the first trillium of spring.
Books were, and are, my second doorway to special and secret places. I discovered so many special worlds through books, whether it was the mysteries of Nancy Drew, the adventures of the Black Stallion, or later, the “What if?” dreams of Ray Bradbury and the fantasy lands of J.R.R. Tolkien.
From a young age, I aspired to become a writer. Although that dream became sidetracked for a time as I raised and homeschooled my sons, reading and writing have always been so much a part of me that it had to rise up again. Within this website I would like to share some of the directions my writing has gone, as well as books I have loved, hoping that others might find here a taste of the beauty and meaning that I have found in books over the years–along with a feeling for the love of nature that has inspired many of my writings.