“Come, Little Ones, it’s time to leave.” “But it’s cold out there.” “It’s cool but the sun is shining. I’ll carry you to a place where you’re protected from the wind.” “We like it inside in our crate where it’s warm and safe. We like the oranges, grapes, and the aster bouquet you picked for […]

On a late summer evening, my friend Lisa and I walk in the old forest where she lives not far from my home. I admire the roots of trees clinging to the sides of a steep gully leading to Saw Mill Creek. I feel sisterhood with these rooted beings as I grip the earth and […]

The sun speeds south on the western horizon. Autumn equinox is near. Twenty or more chrysalises in the Monarch nursery still need to fly south. The hummingbirds are already gone A female Monarch who eclosed last night rides my hand to the field and climbs on vibrant New England Asters. Sunlight pours through her wings […]

The Earth burns. Citizens are shot for no reason other than the color of their skin, and children are sent to unsafe schools and back home again. The pandemic is ignored or politicized and masks are too much trouble for many, even if science says they work. As I read the news, despair hangs in […]

I live in a rural sanctuary, but who can forget the pain of the world—the environmental, pandemic, and political threats, racism, families separated, and people dying alone? Who can forget that many won’t help others stay well by wearing a mask? I feel safe staying close to home, but can’t do much to help other […]

July 12, 1967 Dear Esel, After your bus left, I couldn’t face the apartment, so went to the cycle shop. Maybe mindless people could make me forget. No hope. I finally got the strength to sulk back to the pad. I cleaned up and everything reminded me of you. You in records, dishes, packages, New […]