The little plane coming in for a landing suddenly swoops upward as a herd of wildebeests thunders across the dirt airstrip that serves as a runway in the middle of nowhere.
When I came home from Africa, I brought the Maasai with me.
Last week, soon after returning from Africa, I received a gentle prod to post again.
This ragged piece of a cardboard box will forever be a reminder for me of a time of confounding, big magic.
She talked to corn plants growing in the field. And the corn talked back.
In 1971, holding the premier issue of “Ms.” magazine in my hands, I can recall the added thrill of discovering that a fellow-guest editor at Mademoiselle had illustrated its now historic cover.
So what’s your perspective on people who hear voices?