I'm learning to say "Yes, and..." to each project's demands.
Late-winter evening, a light snow, ...
The night's small offerings to the road are easy to lift: wrapped in a leaf or carried on a bier of two stout twigs an empty drink cup in the ditch will do if a scoop is needed Their still, often neat bodies of feathers and beaks of claws and fur tiny red stick legs … Continue reading Small offerings
in the hammock in the shade in the clearing in the woods with me a small mosquito, two birds nearby a shushing wind the bleats of sheep car on the road woodpecker knocking: rooster crows 30 feet above my head four maples meet and swing their greens in a blue sky the sun shines through, … Continue reading The fabric of the world
Birds, frogs, grasses: Sudden riot of song -- Rain during drought. ~~~
Snow and snow is all I know It comes and stays and doesn't go It bundles me in peace and calm The days so short the dark nights long We play a bit and rest much more Our weary bodies we restore Snow and snow I'm glad to know It's not yet time for you … Continue reading Rhyming couplets for unmatched snowflakes
I love being at home. It's not that anything remarkable happens there. It's that a succession of unremarkable moments, when truly inhabited, turn out to be quite beautiful. When I have time around my actions to feel the rhythm of the day unfolding, I also have time to observe the details of my life in … Continue reading Life’s little brown jobs
My vehicles have names. What's a vehicle? Anything with wheels, that I take to go on adventures. Car (Vivi, Mattie), bicycle (Genny, Francie, Gary)... Lawnmower? It's only since moving to my little two acres, with a big patch of cleared greenery to mow, and a Greenworks battery-powered mower to do it with, that I've started … Continue reading Me and Mrs. Jones
Rooster opens an eye. Dark. Of course. Gently, he ruffles his feathers, shifts his feet, opens both eyes. Clears his throat. Big day ahead. As usual. He will eat and drink later: now, there's work to do. He hears movement and knows the black hen is peering toward him. She likes to watch him work, … Continue reading Rooster’s big day
Last month, I moved. From a 14-year sojourn in a house in the city of Ottawa, Ontario, with a large vegetable garden, mature trees, and friendly neighbours, within walking distance of shopping centres, bars, and the library, from this place that had always treated me well but always felt too jangled for my soul, my spouse … Continue reading Waking to the world