Jude grew up on the Connecticut coast in a family that valued nature. They travelled as far as they could as often as they were able, to see the leaves change, or the snow geese migrate, or to camp on a new shore.
Drawn to the progressive energy and the wilderness of the west she attended a state college nestled between the Coastal and Cascade ranges in Oregon. She visited the Pacific regularly in her blue VW bug convertible (parked always at the top of a hill to push start it in second gear.)
Paul meditated a few rows ahead of her at a yoga group. Soon he was riding his red bicycle to her bungalow, or she rode hers to his apartment almost every day. They bought an old Econoline Van and named it “Rolling Thunder.” In the next years they explored, through mountain passes to the coast, north to British Columbia and south to Mexico.
Following a trip to India they moved back east to Maine. When they had their first daughter, Kelly, they exchanged backpacks for closets; a geodesic dome for a white Cape Cod house; Rolling Thunder for a sturdy station wagon; a black Newfoundland, Magic, on the front porch; a swimming pool out back.
Jude did the house carpentry, baked pies, sewed overalls and tended the garden. She volunteered in Kelly’s classroom, and then her sister Hannah’s; at Hospice, and at the Domestic Violence center. Every day they walked to the ocean. When the girls were big enough they rode bikes with Magic’s successor, Lexi the golden retriever, running alongside.
Where the land ended they jumped into the bay.
A practicing psychotherapist, Jude wanted to write but wondered how people with children found the time to do it. As her oldest daughter was looking at Middlebury College she read a brochure for Breadloaf Writers Conference. She attended the next summer and hasn’t stopped writing since.