It’s another gray snowy day with large white flakes falling from the sky… January lasts “forever” every single year. I feed chickadees on my window ledge until the squirrels show up; then I scatter seed on the ground. Chickadees begin… Read More ›
Leaving chores behind I bundled up and grabbed a trowel and drove between still waters to my beloved forest. The premature snow had melted, cracked ice created fantastic glittering patterns in shallow waters informing me that it was probably too… Read More ›
As I curl up in my hatchback open to sky I am a snail loving her shellsun warms me from behindAutumn lightshimmers, leavesa testamentto breeze some withered by a freeze.Burnt umberGoldSalmonthe understoryin full gloryBare hardwoods peer down sentries stationedOverheadAcorn browned… Read More ›
We use the word “transformation” very casually in our culture. Humans including feminists have ‘adopted’ the word to describe an inner shift in mental awareness, and of course this can happen, although not usually after a weekend spiritual retreat. The… Read More ›
Every twig is singing a song of thanksgiving to Sky Woman who gifts steady rain nourishing earth’s parched body. Cracked ground softens soaks in minerals and scent sensing wonder.
The forest is bursting with berries, blue lily beads are just one of a multitude of seeds…Astonishing pearl bells adorn mounds of shining wintergreen that shimmer across the forest floor. Soon those berries will blush, bead up, cry scarlet. Three… Read More ›
Bittersweet orange invokes wounding past torment endured at the hands of those who would harm. Air is lightened, cleansed by absence Trees rejoice Slaughter shifts perspective Despair presses Diamond. Fritillary seeks her flower lover in waiting Tongue seeking.
To read part 1: click here I am watching my neighbor from a window as her body dissolves and disappears into a pile of dark smoke that rises up to the ceiling in a pink room. She leaves behind a… Read More ›
What follows is yet another story of how patriarchy is destroying our culture through the lens of personal narrative. This is a pattern we must uncover, reveal for what it is and refuse to participate. As bell hooks once said,… Read More ›
Waxing moonpiercesfringed HemlocksStarburstsblink in and outOwls conversefrom Needled Crownsbathed inAir and Light.Refuge Treesoothed byFamiliar callssighs deeply,soakingIn the Night. Refuge incarnates as Aphrodite… In the forest I slip into a lime green skin with the help of one hemlock, under whose… Read More ›