Private Spaces

I was raised in an old farm town–Berea, Ohio. The backyard was big, the trees were many and the sky was open and clear. My family had a great appreciation for that old wood-lined lot and the sounds and smells of the place. You could see a full sunset over the horizon that seemed to lean and then cling on the back fence before slipping into darkness. The dewy dampness in the spring air, the fire pit crackling in the …


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