Tag: heartwood

Guess.What.Day.It.Is?

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Her Birthday!

More on Sawsan here.

And as a lover of Sparrows, this Sawsan is for you.

Sparrow is everywhere and always will be. The birds scatter. Her crying perplexes them. Yet who comes hopping back first, cocking her dun-colored head? Of course, the sparrow. The great avian improvisor. The one who makes her nest in cold chimneys and tailpipes and ruined foundations, the one who has learned to concede the ideal. And for this reason, she is everywhere. Sparrow is everywhere and always will be.

— Amity Gaige, Heartwood: A Novel (Simon & Schuster, April 1, 2025)

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Monday Morning Wake-Up Call

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It was during this time of great discomfort that she had written to the stranger on Reddit.

Dear Sir: I enjoy your posts. I am envious that you’ve found such a harvest of black locust flowers. I hear black locust emits a heavenly smell. But what do the flowers taste like? I have not seen any here at the 41st latitude. Where do you live?

Please forgive this intrusion from a stranger. After pressing send, she had moved away from her desktop. She hadn’t gotten to the kitchen sink before she heard a ping. She had a message on Reddit.

They taste like fresh spring peas drizzled with nectar.
I eat them by the handful like popcorn.
I live in Maine.
Same latitude as Vladivostok and Manchuria.
You?

— Amity Gaige, Heartwood: A Novel (Simon & Schuster, April 1, 2025)

Photo: Black Forest, Robinia Pseudoacacia. iNaturalist.

You used to call me Sparrow. Why?

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Dear Mother, You used to call me Sparrow. Why Sparrow? Well, because the woods are full of sparrows, and you loved everything outdoors. Songbirds, wildflowers, wind. You could read the weather like a poem. But why did I remind you of a sparrow and not another songbird? I never thought to ask. With their white cheeks and dingy underparts, plain brown sparrows are everywhere. They beg at outdoor tables and hop under city benches. They nest in chimneys and rafters and even tailpipes. Sparrows are not much to look at, but they’re smart. Canny. Tiny, feathered battle-axes. Sparrows are survivors. I like to think that’s what you meant… No woman is a star. No woman is a god or a tree or a magician. But for a while, in your arms, the universe was the right size, and I knew where I was…Mothers have a sixth sense. Their love is occult.

— Amity Gaige, Heartwood: A Novel (Simon & Schuster, April 1, 2025)

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