The evening wind came up strongly with the setting sun. One of those brief, brisk autumn fronts, wheeling in from the west that lifted our chimney cap straight off its seat. It bounced and skidded on our roof until it dove down right outside our kitchen door landing with a metallic clang and a thud.…
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About: Harry Hudson
Recent Posts by Harry Hudson
Roses
Carrying red roses, I walk up the mountain on ice, crossing the brook above a foot of snow. It is a long way in until I see the roots left hanging, cut by the excavator. Great stones litter the ground, here and there dotted with a pool of water or a fallen limb. Occasionally there are…
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The Present
Recently there was a conversation around the kitchen table about the burdens of the past. When I was younger I couldn’t imagine being responsible for the actions of the past, before I came into this lifetime. My own life was enough to carry on, right here, and right now. But the events of our times…
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Sharing
When I first met Hall of Fame musician Tom Morgan he handed me his pre-war Martin D28 to play. It was a treasure I had only seen in pictures or heard on records before. As Tom picked up his mandolin we began to play the music he helped pioneer, on the extraordinary guitar that defined it.…
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