Letter from the Editor
Guest Editor Neala Claire Siegle
It’s been six years since my husband and I moved back to our hometown of Missoula, Montana, a midsize college town in Western Montana. We told everyone it was for better jobs and to be closer to family as we considered starting our own, but for me, our homecoming carried a mix of emotions. Were we those classic millennial boomerangs who had failed to make our way beyond the familiar landscape of where we grew up?
We had spent the previous six years living, working, and adventuring in a tiny town on the Montana–Wyoming border, a stone’s throw from the North Entrance to Yellowstone National Park. When we returned to the bustling town of our childhood, it didn’t take long to realize how deeply I missed the jagged peaks, windswept prairies, and vast, star-filled skies of the Greater Yellowstone Ecosystem, where traffic jams were more likely caused by bison than the 5 o’clock crawl from downtown Missoula to its suburbs.
I remember telling a coworker I couldn’t quite find my footing in the newly built house we’d chosen. She paused, then suggested I plant some bulbs or fruit trees—something to look forward to come spring.
It took more than an impulsive (and pricey!) trip to the local garden center, but it was a start.
Over time, I believe I’ve found my roots again. I still miss the beauty and romance of life on the edge of the wilderness, but I’ve come to see that place isn’t the anchor I once believed it to be. Stopping by my parents’ house on a whim, taking our dogs to the park, and sipping coffee beside a south-facing window are the quiet rituals that ground me now.
In this spring issue of the SFWP Quarterly Journal, I wanted to explore what tethers us to place, to people, and to memory. Whether through food, family (biological or chosen), culture, or the natural world, this collection reflects the many ways we root ourselves, even when the ground so often feels uncertain.
There is so much in the world that can leave us feeling unmoored. And yet, the very things that ground us can offer a kind of steady comfort. Or perhaps these pieces invite us to sit with the experiences of those who feel completely uprooted—by political forces, shifting family dynamics, or a changing climate.
Spring is often seen as a season of renewal, an opportunity to shed what has grown stale over the long winter, and a chance to consider what we might cultivate next. Like the work you’ll find in this issue, it is colorful, layered, a bit strange, and at times, even a little magical.
I hope you enjoy this collection of fiction, poetry, and creative nonfiction in this spring issue of Rooted. Let’s consider the many things that keep us grounded this season—even if it’s simply our shared love of a good story.
About the Editors
Editor Neala Claire Siegle is pursuing an MFA in Creative Nonfiction at Bay Path University. A graduate of the University of Montana with a degree in Parks, Tourism, and Recreation Management, she is drawn to the intersections of people and the natural world. When she’s not writing or curled up with a book, she can be found camping, hiking, or nordic skiing throughout the Northern Rockies with her husband and two dogs. Follow her work and reflections on writing, work, and mountain living at RockyMountainRituals.com.
Assistant Editor of Poetry Chiara Crisafulli is a poet and writer from Sicily, Italy, currently living in Northern New Mexico. She is the recipient of the 2026 Katie Besser Student Awards in poetry and academic writing. A student of English and creative writing at Santa Fe Community College, she has published work in both English and Italian in literary journals, newspapers, and anthologies. Find her at www.chiara-crisafulli.com.