Hotei sits in a sunny alcove in the garden under a canopy of old rose and buckthorn leaves. Birds serenade him in early morning, and rabbit...

Once there were brook trout in the streams in the mountains. You could see them standing in the amber current where the white edges of thei...

It goes without saying that I spend many of my summer hours wandering around and taking photos of things. The eastern Ontario highlands are...

The best time is late afternoon when the sun strobes through the columns of trees as you are hiking up, and when you find an agreeable rock ...

I never walk past a stand of lupins without thinking of a sketch in the thirty-seventh episode of Monty Python's Flying Circus. A bumbli...

The love of wilderness is more than a hunger for what is always beyond reach; it is also an expression of loyalty to the earth, the earth wh...

Greater Yellow Lady Slipper ( Cypripedium parviflorum var pubescens ) I sometimes sign on here in the morning, survey my efforts, utter a s...

Consider the other kingdoms. The trees, for example, with their mellow-sounding titles: oak, aspen, willow. Or the snow, for which the peopl...

June would not be June without clay pots, boxes and planters of red geraniums (cranesbills) blooming at the entrances of houses in the vill...

Touch is a reciprocal action, a gesture of exchange with the world. To make an impression is also to receive one, and the soles of our feet,...

Once upon a time, when women were birds, there was the simple understanding that to sing at dawn and to sing at dusk was to heal the world t...

And so it goes . . . One day, the old crabapple is bare and forlorn, the next day it wears a multitude of tiny leaves. Almost overnight, th...

When I am wise in the speech of grass, I forget the sound of words and walk into the bottomland and lie with my head on the ground and liste...

Wild Columbine ( Aquilegia canadensis )  The delightfully complex shape of columbines always reminds me of a harlequin's chapeau or a me...

I’m not trying to hide from the truth but to balance it, to remind myself that there are other truths, too. I need to remember that the eart...

Earth is a good word for pondering in this shaggy season as we work in our gardens and tend the sweet beginnings of the harvest to come. Al...

To be held by the light was what I wanted, to be a tree drinking the rain, no longer parched in this hot land. To be roots in a tunnel growi...

One day there are no leaves on trees in the village at all, and the next day the same trees are fully leafed out, their voluptuous canopies ...