My juniors write about the American Dream—education, money, good jobs. But I'm chasing the Italian Dream my great-grandfathers brought across the ocean: family dinners at 5:30 and a front porch swing under blooming magnolias.
Nature & Reflections
The Hollow Tree in My Backyard and the Woman Who Climbed on Top
A storm felled the ancient tree behind my house, revealing it was hollow inside. As I climbed its trunk, I wondered: How many of us stand tall while rotting at the base? At least I can still count my rings.
Writer's Growth 