First Ice

Every day last week I rode my bicycle on a trail that runs behind the hospital and then along a side channel of the Mississippi River. Even though it’s been a mild late autumn, fishermen were already on the ice, either putting in tip-ups for bass or jigging wax...

The Gap Between Sean’s and Ruth Ann’s Houses

For longer than a century, there was a single set of railroad tracks running north and south through La Crosse. At either end of the city, the tracks branched out into two parallel sets, but within the city limits, there was only one. Northbound trains and southbound...

More Than a Hobby?

I have read personal essays by authors who say they need to write. I have never thought of writing as a need, and I don’t have a sense of what it might feel like. The best I can muster up is a joy for writing. On most days I consider myself lucky that the act of...

I Made It Home OK

Last Tuesday I was sitting at my writing table in the living room when I looked out the window and noticed the falling snow. The snowflakes striking pavement were still melting on contact, but the snow on the lawn was sticking and was almost as high as the tallest...

Beaver Moon

Since Thursday one fallen tree has blocked the bike trail through the marsh. Each day, however, it has been a different tree. The city’s parks department is quick to remove obstructions on the bikeway, but it can’t quite keep up with the nightly work of the beavers...
Steven Simpson