I drive home from the church picnic at sunset, my arms slowly growing more strawberry-hued from my earlier game of croquet in the sun. The grass was far too long to play properly, but that didn’t stop us from having a jolly good game, filled with much good-natured ribbing. The burgers and meadow tea were sublime, and I found the potato salad filled with pickles that I like best on the potluck food line. After the meal, I watched the…
A couple years ago, in better days, Mocksville’s center square was graced with four massive, majestic, old trees. They were stately and beautiful, and gave the town a sort of grace unknown to other concrete metropolises. They were filled with lights during the winter, illuminating the square with Christmas magic. In summer they shaded our cars and our town festivals, and brought green relief from the asphalt heat. In short, we loved them. Then The Person In Charge gave the…