Just a few more edits is all that remains before my next book is ready. Picture selection has been slow. Worcester's Winter Hill is a visit to my life as a young urban farmer. We had crops, farm animals, pleasure horses, and acres of mystery just past the stone wall. My brother and sisters experienced the farm life too, but I'm sure they got something different out of it than I did.
Throughout my life, when I reflected on why things happened or why I felt the way I do about something, I have found that it often reflects on what life was like for me as a boy on the farm. It was a strange farm, as it was only minutes from the downtown of the second largest city in New England: Worcester, Massachusetts. We had acres of land and forests that we never found the far edge of in all the years we lived there.
As small boys, my brother and I explored but never found the full limit of the area. And then, within minutes we would be downtown like my friends, walking from shop to shop with our Mother, buying back-to-school clothes in sprawling department stores such as Denholm & McKay or Jordan Marsh and Company. Our visits to New Hampshire and Cape Cod, plus treks to family in Brooklyn, made the unique features of our home on the farm all the more intriguing for us.