One human life is deeper than the ocean. Strange fishes and sea-monsters and mighty plants live in the rock-bed of our spirits. The whole of...

Here we are again!

March came in like a lioness, and then the lioness stepped away for a few days. Within her brief absence, plucky birds paired off amorously,...

Turn sideways into the light as they say the old ones did and disappear into the originality of it all. Be impatient with easy explanations ...

Dancing in this elderly sconce are nighttime dreams of sunlight, warmth, birdsong and green things emerging from the earth. When I am awake,...

maybe it is her birth which she holds close to herself or her death which is just as inseparable and the white wind that encircles her is a ...

The Bohemian Waxwing ( Bombycilla garrulus ) passes through the village in October as it heads south to its winter habitat and again in Marc...

Spring storm and hail of ice cubes pummels my town and no other. There was a time when townspeople would call this fall the wrath of God or ...

Beyond the window is an ocean of white that goes on forever and ever. Weary of ice and snow, I have been longing to have my morning cuppa ou...

We have been carrying on two parallel conversations, one about respecting human diversity, the other about preserving natural diversity. Unl...

This is one of my favorite intervals in the whole turning year - the cluster of sunny days and cold nights in late winter and early springti...

The rising hills, the slopes, of statistics lie before us. The steep climb of everything, going up, up, as we all go down. In the next centu...

Springtime may be happening in some parts of the world, but it is not happening here yet, and it won't for some time. There is nary a w...

That, I think, is the power of ceremony: it marries the mundane to the sacred. The water turns to wine, the coffee to a prayer. The material...

... and the way we will (hopefully) be again in the not so distant future. This morning I am feeling nostalgic and rather wistful. Fog drift...

An unquiet time, these late February days. At night, I give myself up to dreams of wildflowers, sunlight and songbirds in the overstory. Bar...

The time will come when, with elation you will greet yourself arriving at your own door, in your own mirror and each will smile at the other...

Paper (or canoe) birch ( Betula papyrifera ) February is the shortest month of the year, but for some reason, it often feels like the longes...

I build a platform, and live upon it, and think my thoughts, and aim high. To rise, I must have a field to rise from. To deepen, I must have...