I’d contemplated kayaking out into the middle of the bay to capture the sunrise this morning. That plan blew away in the breeze as the chop and chill nixed the very thought of bobbing along waiting out the first glimpse of the new day. Visions of me paddling back to shore with my tail between…
“There is nothing quite so useless, as doing with great efficiency, something that should not be done at all.” — Peter Drucker “You seem to spend a lot of time worrying if you will survive, and you will probably survive…. It’s the wrong question! The question is how to be useful.” — Peter Drucker to…
“Consider the ordinary barnacle, the rock barnacle. Inside every one of those millions of hard white cones on the rocks—the kind that bruises your heel as you bruise its head—is of course a creature as alive as you or I. Its business in life is this: when a wave washes over it, it sticks out…
“No one cares about your potential if you never deliver.” — @orangebook There are many moments when we don’t feel like doing whatever it is we must do. The last two days were filled with a few examples for me. Ultimately we’ve got to follow through on our obligations if we’re ever going to achieve…
Cape Cod is a summer playground, we all know that. But what of winter and early spring? These “off” seasons are often described by well-meaning seasonal snobs as desolate and depressing. I’d argue for the stark beauty of isolation, and seek it out whenever possible. The Cape isn’t desolate off-season; it’s dormant. If you listen…
Kayaking out to meet a sunrise offers a lesson. When you put yourself out there, beautiful might greet you.
Resilience in a hurricane, in anything really, comes from preparation. Assess your risk, then do what must be done.
Letters swallow themselves in seconds.Notes friends tied to the doorknob,transparent scarlet paper,sizzle like moth wings,marry the air. We’re into the long days now in New England. Days of early light and lingering twilight well into the evening. I wake to the sound of fishermen racing to seize their moment, wondering at the urgency of a…
The dense fog presses up against the glass, tapping on the window lightly, wanting to come inside. Or calling me outside. I listen and layer up for a walk to the bay. I know it’s out there, if only from memory. And walk slowly to the water. The fog comeson little cat feet.It sits lookingover…
Nobody owns the sky or the trees.Nobody owns the hearts of birds.Still, being human and partial therefore to my own successes—though not resentful of others fashioning theirs— I’ll come tomorrow, I believe, quite early.– Mary Oliver, Winter and the Nuthatch Oliver writes of building trust with a nuthatch that eventually learns to eat out of…