
There’s a transparency in the early garden as fresh sunlight begins to filter down from Mount Sequoyah. Sweet air, clear thoughts, the dogs walk instead of sniff. O, the night-owls miss so much. I thank Daddy for my early-bird nature. And, Papa Creecy before him. Growing up in the Delta, I was surrounded by hard-working farmers who saw the sunrise every morning. It’s in my DNA. I bet if I do one of those ancestry tests, the early-bird farm girl slice of pie would be one of the largest pieces.Continue Reading










