“To move, to breathe, to fly, to float,To gain all while you give,To roam the roads of lands remote,To travel is to live.”– Hans Christian Andersen Good God I’m ready to roam remote lands again. Exploring faraway places in a world that has shaken off the pandemic and opens its arms in welcome. We aren’t…
“What is left is what is.” – Wendell Berry, The Broken Ground Lingering soreness from a long winter hike and tackling a foot of snow with a snowblower that quite halfway through the task, leaving only shovels to overcome mechanical obstinance. Fatigue, not all of it in muscles, wished me a good morning with a…
“When despair for the world grows in meand I wake in the night at the least soundin fear of what my life and my children’s lives may be,I go and lie down where the wood drakerests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds.I come into the peace of wild thingswho do…
In the place that is my own place, whose earthI am shaped in and must bear, there is an old tree growing,a great sycamore that is a wondrous healer of itself.Fences have been tied to it, nails driven into it,hacks and whittles cut in it, the lightning has burned it.There is no year it has…
“We have somehow conned ourselves into the notion that this moment is ordinary. This now moment, in which I’m talking and you’re listening, is eternity.” – Alan Watts Well, we’ve reached it again. Now. Did you expect it to be more? Now.Such that it is. Our time; our only time.Make it shine. I thought about…
“My house stands in low land, with limited outlook, and on the skirt of the village. But I go with my friend to the shore of our little river, and with one stroke of the paddle I leave the village politics and personalities, yes, and the world of villages and personalities behind, and pass into…
“How quietly Ibegin again from this momentlooking at the clock, I start over So much time haspassed, and is equaledby whateversplit-second is present from thismoment this momentis the first”– Wendell Berry, Be Still In Haste Two weeks into the New Year. About as distracting a beginning to a New Year as I can ever recall….
“Don’t call this world adorable, or useful, that’s not it.It’s frisky, and a theater for more than fair winds.”Mary Oliver, Where Does the Dance Begin, Where Does It End? When the world show you more than fair winds (this week surely did that), a sprinkling of Mary Oliver poetry soothes the soul. Don’t think I…
The plan was to drive out to the wrist of Cape Cod for a sunrise picture. I’ve patiently waited for the right weather window to appear, and when my head hit the pillow it seemed all was a go. But the weather always has other plans, and teaches you to listen even when you want…
“So long as I am hanging onI want to be young and noble.I want to be bold.” – Mary Oliver, Desire There’s that word again. Bold. I chase it down, let it challenge me. Take a deep breath and get after it yet again. To rise free from care before the dawn and seek adventures,…
