2020 Atheneum Fellow Teetle Clawson has published a new essay in The Sun.
"When I turned off the one-lane road onto the driveway of our solitary farmhouse, I heard the scrape of the truck’s tires on gravel, and then a muffled gunshot. At least, I thought it was a gunshot. Stepping from the truck, I could see entire galaxies of stars through the naked branches of the aspens and the icy arms of the pine trees. Chimney smoke spiraled into the air, its fiery scent so sharp I could taste it. It was too quiet: no bellowing of elk, no call of owls. As I opened the front door, I could smell the beef stew I’d left simmering on the stove, but there was no music, and our dog Neva did not greet me...."