On this last day of our family gathering over Thanksgiving, flocks are on my mind and the way of birds finding safety, comfort, conversation, food, and shuffling wings to create room for one another.
In one of the many insightful passages in Helen Whybrow’s melodius book, The Salt Stones, Seasons of…
If I were closing my eyes and reaching into a bag of candy to feel for a favorite, like a chocolate peanut butter cup, I think I’d also wish for —Fortitude. In that spirit, I’ll share my piece and then wander outside into our yard on a cool, gray day and turn to the two Steller’s Jays–bold, blue, and unafraid to speak up LOUD.
I choose the trail-less way of curiosity over destination, the Henry David Thoreau way.
As the temperatures rocketed into the 70s in Central Oregon after winter storms, I discover the “River…
“…and never hurry through the worldbut walk slowly, and bow often.” — Mary Oliver Mary Oliver’s poem…
Robert Frost’s poem “The Road Not Taken” resonates after a week in Vermont scruffing my shoes through…
When the news is too much, burrow under soft covers; burrow into a novel with a happy…
Murmuration: a great cloud of birds that fly in orchestrated formations As a lover of the Belted…
“The complexity of things – the things within things – just seems to be endless. I mean…
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