More times than not, I write on my Instagram. It's where I share most of my photos and will often write quick blurbs in the description that are much longer than what most people write in theirs, and often I lend far too much meaning to an area most people scroll past. I've wanted to…
Lows in the 40s, crisp night air, crackling bonfires and sweaters held close. Apples are like fists, pummeling the ground while the breeze shakes them free. There's a familiar scent in the air last present a year ago with dim skies and spooky shadows. The sun sets earlier and earlier, the darkness holds on longer,…
It is the start of October, the start of three straight months that have been my perpetual favorites for most of my life. As a child, October and December were solid favorites for me while November was a holding pattern as my young, magic-filled heart waited for the spirit of Christmas to arrive. When in…
We joke when hoisting our cat into our eager arms that she's gone to her happy place as she stares off, looking at a location we cannot see, and waits patiently to be set free to meander the floor until she returns to demand pets and attention. She's at her happy place, we say when…
Traveling is in my blood. My Sicilian heritage decreed it, as my great-grandfather snuck onto the ship that took him across the Atlantic to New York where he meandered and made do until the rest of his family could meet him. How brave is that? How insane? How utterly stubborn which is the core behavior…
"It's like..." I began to say, my eyes trailing over the outline of the closed door, my hands raised as if they would aid me in explaining what couldn't quite be explained. I paused, considering my words and how hard it was to say how I felt. Finally, I tried, I was a writer, wasn't…
The alarm was set for 6:45. The previous day had been complete with freezing temperatures, too much wind, traveling by car, looking for bears, hiking and shivering, and being up for far too long; so the idea of getting up at 6:45 was met with general distaste. Neither of us believed we would be able…
My mother read Little House in the Big Wood to me when I was tiny. Tucked into my twin-sized bed with a line of stuffed animals peeking out from under the covers on both sides, I'd stare at the cover of the book--a sketch of Laura cradling her baby doll--while my mother read through the…
I'm sitting on our deck. It was hastily made, as are most of the row homes in Northern Virginia, thrown up with quick effort because time is money. The deck is narrow, untreated, and the wood is buckling underneath. It creaks as you walk across it and can't fit any decent deck furniture. But we…
I was a teenager when I first was introduced to Minnewaska. I loved the name, it was rich with the heritage of the area. Growing up at the foot of the Catskill Mountains in New York, there was a blend of both Dutch and Native American names in the towns, streets, and natural locations. Nestled…
The storms rolled through Sunday afternoon with thunder that shook the windows and vibrated the floor. The rain fell so heavily that the street turned into a pond. But shortly after, it was clear. The sky was blue, the trees glistened with raindrops, and the temperature had dropped. Wind came through to push away the humidity…
Morning may be my most consistently favorite part of the day. Lazy summer afternoons, the splendid sunsets of winter, the hazy late mornings of fall--I love them all, but mornings seem to consistently be a favorite no matter the season. In particular: weekend mornings. During the work week my mornings are rushed. If I am…
Erica Rose Eberhart 