We had many rational criteria while we were house-hunting, but I also insisted on touching the trees in each yard to get a sense of their energy. Most of the time they were simply trees, indifferent to this strange human’s inquiries. In the front yard of this house, though, I laid my palm on the bark and got a clear, venomous message: Go away. I pulled back, startled, but we continued the tour.

in the bedroom 
manifesto wallpaper 
dripping with rage ... 
who was sick first, 
the man or the land? 

Bio: Cynthia Bale