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.
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Becoming Scrub by Sara Wright
In the precious hour before dawn I walk down to a river that no longer empties into the sea – the circle of life has been broken – the earth’s veins and arteries are hopelessly clogged by human interference (stupidity)… Read More ›
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Navajo Night Chant and the Sacred Dark by Sara Wright
With Winter Moon’s passage and the approach of the winter solstice just a little less than a week away I am much aware of the (potential healing) dwelling place that I inhabit that also characterizes these dark months of the… Read More ›
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The Circle of Life and Death by Sara Wright
This morning the sky was on fire before dawn even as I approached the river whose ripples reflected a purple so deep it was almost inked in charcoal – In the Bosque I noticed that one mule deer had used… Read More ›
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The Feast of Santo Tomas by Sara Wright
This morning I went up to the village plaza in Abiquiu to watch the dancers parade around the church with their saint who is also honored at this village festival held every year at the end of November. This is… Read More ›
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The Pomegranate by Sara Wright
It is mid November and shiny crimson Pomegranates catch the discerning eye in food markets; even Walmart carries them! Why do these beautiful and very ancient fruits appear during this dark time of the year? One answer to this question… Read More ›
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Persephone Rises by Sara Wright
While researching Minoan Crete I learned that each autumn young girls once gathered blue violet saffron crocus to leave as an offering for the Wild Crocus Goddess as they prepared for adolescent female initiation rites. I was intrigued by the… Read More ›
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Firebird’s Song by Sara Wright
In response to Carol Christ’s latest post… She came on the wings of the Owl flew out of the crack of our imagining, swooped low over the underground forest hooing, hooing, hooing screeching and clacking – Haunting the night with… Read More ›
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Mother – Daughter Betrayal by Sara Wright
(1) Today is my mother’s birthday and although she has been dead for more than a decade I still think of her almost every day. At the time of her death I had not seen her for twelve years. Not… Read More ›
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The Man with the Hat by Sara Wright
I met a man on a rumbling train who had hooks in his hat. A fisherman, I thought with the usual dismay – brutal images of dying fish gasping for air exploded in thin air. Memories of my grandmother who… Read More ›
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Bare Bones by Sara Wright
In the pure white sun dream I wore a necklace – bearstone and bone. For months meaning eluded me, but feeling erupted from within- a volcano was burning somewhere beyond me – destructive fires, my body knew. And beyond that… Read More ›
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Ant Hill by Sara Wright
Yesterday I gave a poetry reading at a local library beginning and ending with thoughts about how Climate Change is affecting all living things. I am a naturalist who holds the radical belief that all living things are sentient. I… Read More ›
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A Place Below the Cattails by Sara Wright
As a woman with Passamaquoddy roots when I first came to Abiquiu I was invited to participate in the six pueblo celebrations along the Rio Grande which made me feel blessed, grateful, included, and at “home.” My own people’s lives… Read More ›
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Equinox Reflection by Sara Wright
I gaze out my bedroom window and hear yet another golden apple hit the ground. The vines that hug the cabin and climb up the screens are heavy with unripe grapes and the light that is filtered through the trees… Read More ›
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Field of Dreams by Sara Wright
Once the new white pine forest that stretches out before me was part of a larger field that belonged to an old farm. The woods cascade down a steep hill on the east side of the house and run parallel… Read More ›
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A Blinding Light? by Sara Wright
Nature is a Living Being. Animals and plants have souls, and a spirit. Each species is unique, and yet we are all interconnected, human and non – human species alike. This is more than a both and perspective; its multi-dimensional…. Read More ›
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A Lover of Bears by Sara Wright
She’s a Lover of Bears. A poet, a dreamer, enamored by beaded eyes black and brown fur, rotund bellies. Heartrending cries. Grunts, moans and huffs – She’s a Lover of Bears. She knows that a Universal Language is spoken by… Read More ›
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Mid –Summer Musings: Lady in Waiting by Sara Wright
Yesterday at the Mid-Summer Turning I took a woodland walk in warm summer rain and then spent a quiet day at home. I visited with a few tadpoles and green frogs that inhabit my vernal pool, sat on the bridge… Read More ›
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Fish Tails: A Grandmother’s Legacy by Sara Wright
When the two year old pulled the silvery gold fish out of the pond to the cheers of her five and seven year old siblings, parents, and grandmother, I shuddered involuntarily. The young perch impaled by sharp hook was gasping… Read More ›
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Independence Day? by Sara Wright
She haunts me little bear, too slight, too wary to seek seed I cast for her under White Pine in whose strong arms she finds comfort and safety, if only for one night. The animals are innocent Where… Read More ›
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Two Friends by Sara Wright
Root Woman Tree Woman Sky Woman Dear friends Greet, converse with one another on the steely silver edge of Truth and Change. Weaving together roots twigs, leaves, clumps of dirt, the two carve out an underground story. Mythic toads instruct… Read More ›
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The Doorway Part Two by Sara Wright
When I look into his face I wonder what he is thinking as he loses himself in sweet mountain mist. He’s alone now. His fear of the unknown keeps him vigilant ears erect, mouth tasting air standing on two legs… Read More ›
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A Beary Peaceful Day Part One by Sara Wright
It is overcast and a few drops of rain are falling. I have been out talking to Tree Bear (TB), a yearling who has brightened my life in these dark soul days. Tree Bear comes up the mossy pine strewn… Read More ›
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Coming Home to Spring by Sara Wright
The older I become the more I appreciate Nature as she is, Nature the Creatrix of the Earth. Nature creating without human intervention. The cycles of life and death are so intimately intertwined and never more evident than in the… Read More ›
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Falling Down and Going Under by Sara Wright
I have been traveling across country during the past week from New Mexico to Maine, leaving one “home” for another wondering what the word even means for me these days. I suspect the word doesn’t refer to a place, but… Read More ›
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The Gift by Sara Wright
We drifted through the green hungrily absorbing plant souls, each twig, flower, and tree has her own story to tell… Such a joyful way for me to spend a ‘mother’s day.’ Being with him when family extends sharp claws… Read More ›
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The Sound of Silence: a mother’s day reflection 2019 by Sara Wright
Here in the high desert it has been raining off and on for the last few days. A giant puddle sits in the driveway and all the trees range in color from subtle shades of sage to emerald. Fringed Chamisa,… Read More ›
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Our Lady is on Fire by Sara Wright
I entered the Silent Tomb; the Mosque felt devoid of Presence. We wandered through a myriad of glorious arched rooms, ornately carved woodwork – soft carpeted floors. Removing our shoes we spoke softly in deference to Something ineffable? Each tiled… Read More ›
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Lise Weil – Requiem by Sara Wright
For the Visionaries of the Women’s Movement and Beyond. “I glimpse lines crazing my face in the windowglass, crone’s bones emerging. My eyes are growing larger; soon they will perch on stalks and swivel, crustacean. The better to see how… Read More ›
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Raven’s Cry by Sara Wright
Fake coyote calls split a moon cracked sky in two. False ‘Indian’ hoots and drums stunned sleeping birds – Why do ‘whites’ insist upon using Indigenous ways, to make a point? Coyotes know. Did they think that she was blind… Read More ›