I will never forget our first story-reading. We met in the foyer of an old publishing house (endearingly called The Pantry Nook), sat underneath the wooden panels and read stories to each other. I brought baked potatoes straight from the fire and we enjoyed them plain as we ate up the words.
We called ourselves the Scribblous Company and there was always tea, always books, and always something to nibble on: bread and smoked cheese, hot soup and a croissant, Michigan strawberries, jars of concord grape juice, hobbit cake. We met in the woods, in coffee shops, in our houses and dorm rooms, and ate and ate the sharp, simple beauty of words and drank up rich, sweet conversation.
We often forgot a camera because we were busy…busy singing, busy walking across teetering bridges in the woods, busy baking or reading aloud or going barefoot through the rain on a quest for chocolate cake.
But we have the memories.
And just a few pictures.