Author: stephen t berg

  It’s early. It’s dark. In the south-east, there is a place where the sun will come up, should it choose. Indications are good. So I wait for the first signs o...

  Today is the memorial of Len Switzer. Often, I find myself thinking of Len, his sweet spirit, his buoyant soul, his soft and kind presence; then, immediately,...

  In a late fall morning, in my upper room,settling into my armchair, which once belonged to Deb’s dad,I take sips of coffee while slowly inhaling a Psalm      ...

  At Base Camp he pitched his pillow tent, drew flags with crayon and hung them on his tricycle.He loved the stars stuck to his ceiling, and loved the clever,si...