GEORGE H. GURLEY

From my window I can observe a congregation of large brown monoliths on my neighbor’s hillside. They might be religious artifacts of some...

Every spring three turkey vultures return to our farm and roost on top of the barn. The event isn’t exactly like the annual return of...

My wife’s new weed bucket reminds me of Edward Lear’s immortal nonsense poem, “The Owl and the Pussycat.” These two intrepid travelers...