By Rachel McKimmy 02/01/2020 My alarm wakes me up. My boyfriend is sleeping on the couch, Ford Lake a smooth gray mirror below the lightening pale-pink sky behind his head. We listen to Tom Petty on the drive to the Huron River Watershed Council, a few minutes late. It’s snowing lightly, disparate flakes drifting down…
Crafting literary journalism on North America's Third Coast
