The Song of the Eastern Phoebe

I stopped writing and talking about my children for a few reasons. I started to understand the damage I was doing to their privacy and my youngest, the one who appeared in my work the most, needed the time and silence and space in order to make it through adolescence. The piece I write today is the product of that aforementioned time and space, lots of conversations, mutually agreed upon privacy parameters, therapy, and because this is Jess Lahey writing, animal helpers.

Read More
The Death Spiral

I was so looking forward to my birthday this year. I’d cleared almost an entire week of obligations and planned to give myself the gift of six whole days working in the woods and garden. I’ve been building a new stone wall, cutting and splitting a black cherry tree that came down in a storm, and tending to my vegetable gardens.

Read More