Once upon a time, many moons ago, I wrote a column for a weekly newspaper in Michigan. That column, "From Under The Willow," chronicled my observations of life in a rural small town. My children were often the focus of the columns; sometimes there were comments about current events or news events. But, more often than not, the subject matter centered on children and family.

We lived in a red brick house on the west side of Pigeon, Michigan at that time. On our lawn was a giant willow tree. It became the symbol of my writing "from under the willow." Now, many years later, I'm claiming that old column title for a new blog.

The tree still stands. The house is gone. The village has changed. My life is very different from those early days of raising children and wondering if the world had passed me by. So let's begin another venture of hearing "from under the willow" and, in the spirit of the old column, know that I shall sometimes sign off with a blessing "from under the willow that shades us all."