June 1, 2012 § 2 Comments
Native American stories walk the well-worn path of seasons and cycles that repeat.
I may tell linear stories, but in real life I prefer the native American story-form. Life walks a circle and I like it that way.
Take vegetable gardens. They happen every year—twice for the dedicated gardener, winter and summer.
I am now at the hopeful beginning of the summer garden season, a season that has risen again and again over the horizon of the year for me, and for my father, putting in Jersey tomatoes in Princeton Junction, and for my grandfather, thumbing pea seeds into the ground in Congers, New York.