Springcreekland —by Joe Scheidler

I’ll not listen to the news this morning.  Instead, I’ll pull up Jay Ungar with his smooth fiddle rendering some Asheton Farewell and Marga...

It's breezy and cool this morning, and there are changes in the trees lining spring creek. The rich greens of summer are fading to dull ...

It’s September and summer is winding down.  Ripened fruits abound, stickseed collects on pant legs and tangles the dog’s hair, overripe toma...

I was in my early teens sitting at my grandpa’s kitchen table when he announced I would be cutting down the horseweeds along the west side o...

We awoke this morning to dozens of northern rough winged swallows feasting on insects over the cattails. Like many other birds, they form gr...

I was out early one morning last week to get the garden irrigated.  The dew was heavy, and it weighed on the asparagus so it bent and gliste...

We are fast approaching the doldrums of summer, when tomatoes and sweet corn ripen, cicadas and crickets sing, and a string of oppressively ...