Word of the Day: Vergence


(n.); simultaneous movement of eyes toward or away from one another; c. 1902 in ophthalmology

“Some days I can move the mower slowly, along lazy paths. … On other days, when rain beckons and the grass looks nearly knee-high, I need to scorch green earth. More often, I simply head out to the lawn with the same source of pride that I bring to words.”

–Nick Ripatrazone, “Lines of Light and Dark: On Mowing and Writing”

It might be said, without sounding too pretentious about it, that life consists of constant moments of vergence: the navigation between moving away and coming together, of brief glimpses where two lines of sight fleetingly converge, then move on to cross over some other path. This week, Nick Ripatrazone brings together two seemingly unrelated topics—mowing lawns and writing—and weaves them into a delightful lazy summer afternoon of an essay that strolls through poetry, prose, and personal history.

Sara Menuck is currently pursuing BA in English & Professional Writing at York University, Toronto, without being very professional at all. Having interned with a variety of small press publications, she currently works as a prose reader for The Winter Tangerine Review, a department editorial assistant, and, in her free time, a teacher of music to very small, adorable children. More from this author →