Former Career Fire and EMS Lieutenant-Specialst, and Master Photographer.
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It is curious how one’s fears change as we grow older. When I was a child, I had the typical and classic childhood fears; fear of the dark, fear of death, fear of getting hurt, but above all else, I had an irrational and overwhelming fear of mirrors. Fear is the emotional paralytic that draws…
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Day breaks, the lost girl inside wakes, the birds sing, the wind blows through the trees, and the angels sigh. My mornings in Vermont begin early with the rising sun, my days often occupied with my own pursuits of untamed introspection as I try to unravel the mysteries of life, followed by early nightfall to…
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I used to write in riddles, and I used to write in rhymes; my body ached to write the words, the prose is what kept me alive. I write into the dark veil of the night, and in another set of chances, I’d take the ones I’ve missed. All the times in which I spoke…
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“Sky above me, Earth below me, a fiery passion forever burning within me.”—Emily Pratt Slatin I have always been a little different. Even as a young child, when other girls were content with playing princesses and tea parties, I found myself more engrossed in embarking on imagined adventures, climbing trees, and dreaming of the vast,…
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My earliest memories are of being a small child sitting on the marble floor of our Greenwich Village apartment. There was something comforting in the coolness of that floor, in its immovability, in its seeming lack of opinion or judgment. It was a respite from the complexities of life in a large city with multiple…
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“Life’s most profound truths often hide behind quiet moments—in subtle glances, unspoken words, and the spaces between chaos and calm. It’s there, in the stillness, that we discover who we truly are.”—Emily Pratt Slatin It’s strange how the smallest moments in life can leave the most indelible marks. I’ve long believed that the vast majority…
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When my parents moved me to our second house, I was instantly drawn towards a hundred year old maple tree in the back yard. As the years went by, the tree became my inspiration, my childhood joy, and the one spot I would always run to whenever I needed a good cry. I would often…
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Minutes of daylight, as the minutes turn into hours, is the parlance of our time. Every time I look in the mirror, I see myself staring right back at me; a fleeting glimpse of myself going round and round on a carousel cusp of why. I will never understand why my parents moved me around…
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It’s a peculiarly early Sunday morning for me, the world outside still shrouded in the quiet darkness of the pre-dawn hours. As I sit here still in bed, a thought lingers in my mind: the more things change, the more they stay the same. This phrase echoes through the generations, each one pointing fingers at…
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There are ghosts among us—not the ghosts often rooted in folklore, nor the ones one would expect to haunt and linger in old house, but the ones we often create through our own existence. We carry them only in quiet moments, such as the way a song that we haven’t heard in awhile gives us…
Emily Pratt Slatin
P.O. Box 1231
Middletown Springs, VT 05757-1231
United States Of America