Karen Anderson
Essays by Karen AndersonKaren Anderson is a writer who lives and works in Traverse City, Michigan. She was a columnist for the Traverse City Record-Eagle for 30 years and published two collections.
Since 2005, she has contributed weekly essays to Interlochen Public Radio. An illustrated collection of her essays was published in 2017, “Gradual Clearing: Weather Reports from the Heart.”
Karen has a master’s degree in English Literature from the University of Michigan and is retired from Northwestern Michigan College where she was director of marketing and public relations. She enjoys camping, canoeing, reading, writing, listening and learning.
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What I need, I thought, is to see someone I know who’s a cat person, but the store was full of strangers. -
If we are parents, we raise our children with the goal that they will grow up and leave our home to make a life for themselves.
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Dick points behind me and I turn slowly to see twin fawns scampering out of the woods into the wide meadow next to our campsite.
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Camping used to be easier. It used to be an adventure to cook outdoors and sleep on the ground.
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I know the season is mostly over, but I still need an answer. How do you pick out a good cantaloupe? My record of selection is poor.
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I could feel my spirits rise as my shoes dried out. It was exactly what we needed, and the only people having more fun than the audience were the musicians.
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Dozens of ants coming and going, over and around the clothes pins. Why, I wonder, and even more, how?
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“There are two kinds of chances,” he said, leaning over the podium. “Those that come more than once and those that will never come again."
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It’s almost too warm to jog but I lace up my shoes anyway. There’s no traffic this morning because it’s Sunday and the streets are quiet. The only cars are on their way to church or to the convenience store for coffee and a paper.
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Reading the classic Mark Twain novel again sparks some reflection on how we use language today.
