“It is by riding a bicycle that you learn the contours of a country best, since you have to sweat up the hills and coast down them.” –Ernest Hemingway Over a year ago, when our love was only a small, tight bud, Jeff and I hatched a plan. It was a stormy night, maybe, and … Continue reading
I do this every year- retreat into winter. It seems as though the months of shorter days and longer nights becomes a dearth of creativity, as I focus more on cooking food and drinking tea on the couch than searching for poems out in the world. I seem to neglect this blog every winter. But … Continue reading
Why do people live where they live? What draws them to come together, converging? And what causes them to leave? These are mysteries of humanity that may be contextual, or maybe just a result of our animal selves. We are driven by magnetism and hormones and fear and desire…to live by ample water and food … Continue reading
“Well was were you when the train left town / I was standing at the corner with my head hung down / Hey that train that carried my girl from town / Hey hey hey hey hey” –Doc Watson- “No one has written the book of life,” he reminds me as we breach conversation, sitting … Continue reading
Tendril by Tendril arise to your new life. Shake out your wrinkled leaves. Embrace and welcome sunshine! You may also like: Fiddlehead The Unknown is the Best Part Fox in throat, hand in sleeve Dogwood Mornings Continue reading
The next thing will be to welcome green. A hopeful expectation, creation. You may also like: Small Moments our avian friends I dwell in Possibility: a new year written on a Friday afternoon Continue reading
Nothing is mysterious, no human relation. Except Love. -Susan Sontag- They met under a tree in in late September, converging in the midst of their diverting trails to make a decision. She had left things scattered about his house the month before, in the bathroom with its cold, hard ceramic green tiles. She had left … Continue reading
The winter skies are blank- empty like a still pool of water, reflecting. They wait, as we do, for the world to erupt in color and bright song. We need this empty time, these white skies, to recalibrate. We need to take stock of ourselves as we stand, alone. Alone, away from the brightness of … Continue reading
Spider Weather by James Morrison These are the warm calm days before fall strips the trees and rain turns the ground slick the sky unpredictable, the days of yellowjackets and fruit flies that hover over the last wave of fallen apples and grapes. I’m spending time with the fat orange and brown spiders tying pitchfork … Continue reading
I have a fascination with spiders. Maybe it’s their artistry, an ability to create intricate structures that serve as both homes and practical food-capturing devices. Maybe it’s their solitude– how they live alone, work alone, spending hours waiting…waiting…patiently, high in trees, low in branches, on fences and between houses. Maybe it’s how their webs catch the … Continue reading
in the midst 