Maybe I was hoping today,I wouldsitto write something, possibly evenof little importanceabout a day, like todaybut sometimes life justtakes over each small bit offree space probably I would have told you howthe sky was so blueand the air was a…
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On the morning of a day expected to beheating upsevere storms in the forecastI sit by the pondin a lovely light breezea peaceable smile, dogs at my feetwatching a monarch flutterand the oriolesin the trumpet vine, attracted to thesweetnessof bold…
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“I want to tell you about the most hopeful thing in the world. It is a seed.”~ Janisse Ray Our giant puppy has been collecting seedsby way of trampling through all the gardensthe fur behind his ears andon his neck…
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As I sit, watching the birds, most especially the oriolesthat have gathered, holding on to how wondrous wasthe spotting of this week’s special visitora brown thrasher,and noticing that the tadpoles are beginning to sproutlegsI find myself also working throughthis morning’s…
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Thank you once again to the extraordinary talents of our daughter, so, so very happy with the new signjust now posted in celebration of the rewilding we’ve been working on! While all around us are manicured, constantly mowed, watered and…
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When one catand two of the dogs have me upway, way before the sunwhere most wearily, one is calledto begin a day, not yet dawningyou might then ask yourself, Whereis the light? when yesterday’s stench of decomposingmisogynistic infirmitywafting up from…
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This morning in the garden,I am thinking about how weharbour shame in our bodieshow we then come to coat ourselves with this shameas amour,how we righteously and continuously thrust it forthas shieldand wield it,fiercely and vigilantlyas swordand how in our…
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I’m not afraid to tell you,it’s been a really hard three weeksrelative to me, anywaywhere I will walk around with a label‘Functioning Depressive’ stamped and flashing subtle warnings, on the underside of awhite flag that I carry in defeat as…
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This morning feels, daunting … ? uncertain… ? worrisome… ? tentative… ?twenty-four brand new hours, and all that,in the province where I live, politics may bethe word of the dayyet comes with the unusual (for me) feeling ofwho caresit’s all…
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As if to tie an invisible thread between usto somehow keep you afloat At the weekend, in a moment of full exhaustive overwhelmI am reduced to waving the white flagand whole heartedly crying my eyes outwith the dogs (of all…
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