May Day
On May Day, my mind goes first to the woods. The other morning, traveling the back roads, I rounded a bend and saw a hillside of trees rising like a long, steady breath. Spring had softened everything—branches wearing that first tender green, shadows moving like quiet thoughts. And there on the woodland floor, as if…
A Blessing for the Exhausted
For the exhausted:May these small blessings find you like a hand to the back, steady and unhurried, offering the quiet reminder that you are still here, and that being here is enough. Blazing goldfinches tugging at alpaca fleece— building nests from whatever softness the world offers. The startled leap of the silvered trout, winter sleep…
Balancing Being Human
Some mornings in early April feel as though the world has two handles, and I am meant to carry both at once. One handle is carved from the heaviness of the news—its grain dark and unvarnished. I hear how the world speaks of us now, our national face appearing more clenched than kind, more bristled…
In My Words 