Who is on the plum tree?
Well! It’s kind of like this…I am a sort of field mouse, as it were, gnawing away at meaning, if you know what I mean! Jokes aside – what a sparkling Mandala of prose from our Editor’s Corner. Enter this labyrinth if you dare!
Hedge Trimming – Bidding Adieu to Ambivalence
It is another glorious August morning; the dog days are past, there is a slight nip in the air, and the New England sky is taking on the vibrant blue of ear…ly autumn. A perfect day for hedge trimming.
I am not talking about shaggy privets or laurels, or overgrown rhododendron and yew turning the yard into a wilderness and begging for the touch of well-edged shears. No, I am referring to the stray equivocations that seep insidiously into our prose – wee, verbal field mice, gnawing away at our meaning. Seems to be, more or less, essentially, about, almost as if, sort of, as it were…. The list goes on with the persistence of a Minoan labyrinth.
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