Author Archives
I am a writer and naturalist who lives in a little log cabin by a brook with my two dogs and a ring necked dove named Lily B. I write a naturalist column for a local paper and also publish essays, poems and prose in a number of other publications.
-
Crane Song: Finding my Way Home through Image, Myth, and Nature – Part 1 by Sara Wright
The last gift I received from my very distant parents was a print of a Native American Medicine Wheel by Ojibway artist Joe Geshick. I received this present on my birthday in 1993. When I opened the cardboard tube I… Read More ›
-
Guadalupe Rises Again by Sara Wright
I was in a Mexican store helping someone to choose tiles for the sink and bathroom of a new casita. I have always been drawn to Mexican art because the images tell stories, and many of those stories revolve around… Read More ›
-
Navajo Night Chant – Part 2 by Sara Wright
Read Part 1 here: The original Night Chant involved four teams who danced twelve times each with half-hour intervals in between-a total of ten hours. The dance movements involve two lines facing each other. Each of the six male dancers… Read More ›
-
Navajo Night Chant – Part 1 by Sara Wright
With the Winter Moon waxing on nights when stars are falling from the sky and the winter solstice passage, I am much aware of the healing and dwelling place that I inhabit that also characterizes these dark months of the… Read More ›
-
Mary’s Return by Sara Wright
Yesterday I learned (NPR) that a third of the oak trees in this country will be dead within 50 years; I also read that our sugary harbingers of spring, the Maples, are dying confirming my own observations. I try to… Read More ›
-
Paying Homage to Hestia by Sara Wright
This morning I was kneeling in front of my new wood stove kindling a fire from hot coals when I felt the presence of the Greek Goddess Hestia, Lady of the Hearth moving through the house. The goddess manifests as… Read More ›
-
Stories the Stones Tell by Sara Wright
The potshard in the center seems to have a “face”… although I bring some of these artifacts home for closer inspection it is part of my spiritual practice to return them to the land. Avanyu, spirit of the waters The… Read More ›
-
The Body is a Nation by Sara Wright
“The body is a nation I have not known. The pure joy of air: the moment between leaping from a cliff into the wall of blue below.”* Oh, the pure joy of being weightless – I leapt to the stars,… Read More ›
-
Changing Woman Speaks by Sara Wright
She climbed steep hills and rubble to reach the meadow. The flat – topped mountain peered down at the woman gathering stones as if they were diamonds. Amber, moss, pearl white, rose red and orange, gray and ebony – a… Read More ›
-
Coyote Woman Unmasked….by Sara Wright
Four years ago I made a trip to New Mexico to spend the winter and returned for three more winters in a row. A true Night Journey through the Desert. I hadn’t been there three weeks before a Great Horned… Read More ›
-
Crow and the Pornographic Gaze by Sara Wright
Once she believed that it was her fault they came on to her, that she owed them something… They owned her? Secretly the girl was pleased because any kind of attention was better than none, or being so “different” –… Read More ›
-
The Mask and the Mirror – Part 3 By Sara Wright
One concrete way of accomplishing this change is to submerge ourselves in the rest of Nature and stay open to the appearance of animals, birds, plants, etc., and by paying close attention to images and words, nudges, synchronicities, dreams, and… Read More ›
-
The Mask and the Mirror – Part 2 by Sara Wright
Artist Debra Fritts When I asked Debra about this circle she said “the circle around the eye is symbolic of the moon, a nightly ritual of seeing the moon.” Curiously, women as ‘seers’ have an intimate relationship with… Read More ›
-
Two Rabbits and the Moon By Sara Wright
The Cottontail watched me climb a steep hill to meet her at the Cross – road. She split the stone. Datura delusions emerge from this bloodline. I stumble down down down… Her feet beat a mourning drum I’m in free… Read More ›
-
The Mask and the Mirror-Part 1 by Sara Wright
When I first saw this extraordinary clay round last spring I was immediately captured by the story being told. As I recall it was the second, and to me, the central image in a series of three that Debra Fritts… Read More ›
-
Ancient Mother by Sara Wright
On the path through the pines I see clumps of moss scattered, an old tree trunk is raked as if with claws; clumps of downed bark food for the earth. My heart soars. Wild hope pours through me like… Read More ›
-
Telepathy, Women, and Birds by Sara Wright
I am a naturalist and ethologist who has studied many animals and birds in their natural habitat; my 15 year study of Maine’s black bears is perhaps the best example of the work I do. I am a dedicated animal… Read More ›
-
Passionflower Autumn by Sara Wright
I am gazing out the window; an almost bare leafed apple tree’s sap has begun its descent for the winter months. Trees participate in a great round; breathing slows as the tree becomes drowsy. Soon the merciful cold will put… Read More ›
-
Bareskin by Sara Wright
When we meet our deep brown eyes mirror a mutual need for light to penetrate human darkness. Your eyes are wary and fearful; Mine hunger for your touch. I cry out softly “Don’t be afraid… I love you”. We share… Read More ›
-
Tree Teachings by Sara Wright
I breathe in the scent of moist wooded bogs, crystal lake waters, baskets of dew heavy and sweet soaking heat through every pore… note withered leaves shriveled mosses and still the rains do not come. The Earth is on Fire…. Read More ›
-
Re-Visioning Medusa: Part II by Sara Wright
Read Part I of Re-Visioning Medusa here. Recently, I was given a wonderful gift, a small shiny black pot with Avanyu’s image carved into its micacious clay surface. I have become enamored by the images and the mythology around this… Read More ›
-
Re-Visioning Medusa: Part I by Sara Wright
All through my childhood a self-portrait, painted by my mother hung above my parents’ bed. I was fascinated by this image of the stern face of my very beautiful mother with her long wavy chestnut hair. In the painting my… Read More ›
-
Herb Talk: Bee Balm by Sara Wright
For Carol. Women’s relationship with plants stretches back to the beginning of humankind. Most of us know that women invented agriculture and became the first healers. I come from a family of women who all had gardens, but no one… Read More ›
-
Morning Meditation by Sara Wright
I have just returned from the brook where I offered up my Toad Moon prayers to the song of the Hermit thrush and to the rippling waters – first honoring my body with a poem written just for her, and… Read More ›
-
La Llorona Musings by Sara Wright
In Abiquiu New Mexico I walked down to the river and Bosque (wetland) communing with trees, leaving in the dark and returning before dawn every morning. Red Willow River is a tributary of the Rio Grande. I didn’t need to… Read More ›
-
In Sight (Part 2) by Sara Wright
This post follows In Sight (Part 1). Yet, I was content enough here wasn’t I [living part of the year in Abiquiu, New Mexico]? The desert was starkly beautiful, and I loved the place I lived, doing my best to… Read More ›
-
In Sight (Part 1) by Sara Wright
Four years ago I made a radical decision to spend a winter in New Mexico. Maine winters were long and I was 71 years old. An unfinished experience 25 years ago had left me with a longing to spend more… Read More ›
-
Living with Uncertainty by Sara Wright
I was deeply moved by Carol’s willingness to share deeply personal feelings about how her visit to the hospital , enough so that I decided to write about how the Covid virus has impacted my life and the lives of… Read More ›
-
Ecocide and PTSD by Sara Wright
The fierce light of the white star pierced her thick white fur as the mother froze. She was trying to imagine how her cubs could make the jump from one jagged ice flow to another in the cracked deep blue… Read More ›
-
Peter’s Meadow by Sara Wright
I hardly knew you. We always met at the meadow, the one alive in your imagination. Last fall you told me how beautiful it would look when wildflowers bloomed.
