Late yesterday afternoon, a gust blew down a wasp nest. Not a little one. We found it on the grass over toward the river in the park in front of our house, a gray paper mass roughly the size of a basketball, torn open by the fall. Inside were layers of hexagonal cells...
Dad was 24 and single when he got his first boat—a new, 1956 StarCraft—15 feet long, burgundy and white, with a 30-horsepower hand-cranked motor. “It was a fishing boat,” he told me. “One of only two boats in Rigby. I got it to take my dad fishing out on the lake.” It...
Here I sit, practicing a solo version of “You Are My Sunshine” on my harmonica—the same instrument that my grandfather taught me to play. His was a unique style, a combination of single notes offset by a lower beat that traced the music but didn’t define it. A back...
“Miles to Go before I Sleep” This essay won first place in the 2002 BYU Studies essay contest. Cold days were the hardest for her. A skiff of snow on the ground would mean that the air would pack around her instantly and invade every part, no matter how well...
