It’s been a month since my old dog Willow died, and I miss her healing presence. The house feels empty without her calm energy, but my young dog Disco grieves, too. She searches for the one who’s
Read more →My Land and Home
February was unusually warm and calm in the New York Finger Lakes, a quiet time for walks with friends on dry forest trails. The birds knew better than to sing love songs that early. I trusted them
Read more →In July 1972, they moved with their baby boy to a crumbling farmhouse on a dirt road and immediately got to work. She cleared cobwebs in the cellar while he made shelves from old barn boards. Like
Read more →Dear Bluebird Mama, Earlier this week, I saw you carrying dried grasses inside a nesting box while your mate flew from barn peak to birdhouse perch to crimson maple tree. I watched from inside through Vic’s astronomy
Read more →The forest is green with moss and ferns. Fiddleheads near the stream are ready to harvest and the maple trees dropped their tiny red flowers on the forest floor. Trout lilies finish their season just as Trillium
Read more →I hurry uphill, out of breath. Instead of sitting quietly at my altar inside, I push and pant to reach the top of the trail before the evening sun sinks from sight. The closest hills are across
Read more →Blue Jays, Cardinals, and Juncos are my constant January companions, but Blue Jays bullies are no match for the little Downy Woodpecker female who dominates the suet cake. She doesn’t take shit from anyone. I hear her
Read more →They hang, silent and still, for one to two weeks before the chrysalis darkens and I see wings. The birth (eclosure) takes seconds and I usually miss it, but I caught one last week. A caterpillar becomes
Read more →Why do we love them so? They’re exotically beautiful and they transform in magical ways. They’re symbols of Soul in many cultures and in my life–always a thrill, a surprise, a joy. After last year’s dry summer
Read more →“Birds make great sky-circles of their freedom. How do they learn it? They fall and falling, they’re given wings.” ~ Rumi After their first four eggs were stolen from the nesting box, the Tree Swallows returned. I
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