Life should leave deep tracks
While sitting with this poem this week and working on my art response, I kept conjuring up the memory of the old general stores of my youth. I grew up in California Gold country. In tiny towns, barely towns any
Lost and Found
My book group met last week. Usually we read novels and sometimes nonfiction and very occasionally poetry. This was one of those rare times of poetry. We chose to read from Kay Ryan’s book of poems The Niagara River.
The Birds and Bees and Crabapple Trees
The week has buzzed by (sorry for the pun), and though I have been busy as you know what, I have very little honey in the hive to show for it. This week I have felt more like a hamster
Bursting and Buzzing
Well the trees are blooming and you know what that means? Bees. There is a row of pink flowering trees (by Friday I promise to find out what they are) along the great lawn below a small grove of cedar
Worthy of Andy (Goldsworthy that is)
I spent a morning with my family gathering rocks of red and white for no other purpose than to line them up in a serpentine procession into the chilly March waters of East Austin Creek. My son gathered rocks for
Stones in the River
I spent the weekend out at our place in Cazadero nestled in the redwoods above a meandering creek. This time of year the creek is raging with the force of winter rains. The ground is long since saturated and the
Wild Mustard March
The teeter-totter ride continued this week with nearly two inches of rain one day and 6o degree weather the next and persistent fog yesterday, glorious sunshine this morning and rain in the forecast for tomorrow. I guess that’s the very
Balancing on the thin line between Winter and Spring
I apologize in advance to all of you who do not live in the west and perhaps are not astride the winter/spring teeter-totter. But here in beautiful Sonoma County spring, as I said in last week’s blog post, has spoken
What’s in a name?
“What’s in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet,” so Juliet tells Romeo in Shakespeare’s tragedy of a play. And what about the “Fetid Adder’s Tongue”? Why such tragically ugly
Fetid Adder’s Tongue: a soothsayer of Spring
My little family and I have a bit of property just east of the Pacific Ocean nestled in the mighty Redwoods outside of the tiny hamlet of Cazadero. There are many wonders to be found there. The Redwoods, of course,