Hilary Seeking Wonder

Hilary Yancey
haphazard notes on what I see
Created 24 Apr 2020
  • stop the world
    27 Sep 2021 • 2 min read • 3 1
    I’ve lost the shirt that I’m wearing in this picture, black and sleek with swans splashed across it. I wore it into the ground, I’m sure, thrown into the washing machine with no question of a delicate...
  • I wrote a memoir too soon
    13 Sep 2021 • 2 min read • 8 4
    I read recently that there is a type of book that some people really don’t like - memoir written too soon after the events, without the perspective of years. Years do change perspective, that much I k...
  • teach your child in 100 lessons
    06 Sep 2021 • 1 min read • 3 0
    Teach her to name the snail in its shell, the translucence held in her hand. Teach him to peer through the empty paper towel roll at a pile of stars. Teach her what a pretzel is made of Teach her not ...
  • when the paint is on the porch
    31 Aug 2021 • 2 min read • 4 0
    I have asked her to “keep the paint on the paper” for the last twenty minutes, off and on. I’ve spread a large piece of butcher paper onto the worn wood of the back porch, taped down with leftover pai...
  • the anxious rain
    23 Aug 2021 • 2 min read • 6 3
    Texas thunderstorms are the closest I have come to witnessing that which seems supernatural. The sky blackens, charred with clouds. The rain does not gradually enter but pours, like God has tipped ove...
  • the birds I miss
    16 Aug 2021 • 2 min read • 3 0
    They are short, squat birds, the size of a small apple. Their beaks are tiny darts of dark brown, and they have stripes like eyebrows running across just above their eyes. They are a rich brown, light...
  • I am in a forest
    09 Aug 2021 • 1 min read • 5 0
    How do you talk about things everyone else has already said? I swipe dust from the shelves of memoir and biography in the back corner of the bookstore, careful not to disturb the covers of the regal b...
  • a bee in the hive
    26 Jul 2021 • 2 min read • 3 0
    Dear littlest bee, This hive never ceases, and you were born into the steady, hectic hum of our activities. Here someone is always dashing around with a Swiffer duster in hand as a sword, perched with...
  • a gift of sleep
    12 Jul 2021 • 2 min read • 2 0
    My body is falling, falling against the bed, falling against the pillow which is misshapen from how much I have tossed and turned. I can feel the way the heaviness is overtaking me, just a few minutes...
  • what I tell God on Bosque
    21 Jun 2021 • 2 min read • 2 1
    It’s a text, not a call, and perhaps that should have meant fewer shivers through my body in the cool quiet of the public library. But it doesn’t, because when my person says that he needs me, can I c...
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