Mrs. Loggins taught English at a high school in rural North Carolina where I grew up. If she had stood on her tiptoes, she might have barely stretched past the five-feet mark on a door jamb. She was pleasingly plump and wore her dark hair in a cute pixie cut. As one of the younger teachers, she connected well with 16-year-olds. I had the luck and privilege of being one of her tenth-grade students.
It would be my quest for nine years
A heron embraces the sunshine 🍁🌿🍁🌿🍁 In my senior year of high school , I spent hours in the sitting room next to the guidance counsel...
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W hen the service ended, I walked through the church doors and down the front steps, and there stood Samuel (not his real name), waiti... -
A fter traveling down some back roads and winding through the hills of Virginia, we began climbing a mountain, leaning into one hairpin tur... -
I found an old bucket in the woods and planted a mum in it. Over the years, the roots of this plant have been buried under snow, froz...