To Come Back Up with Seeds
I watched the birds convene on the ice-covered earth where earlier we scattered seeds just for them, their feathers fluffed to stay warm against the Arctic air that swept through our woods. Hundreds of birds, their wings loud when something unseen and unheard to me causes them all to take flight suddenly only to return seconds later when all is clear again.
Hopes for Rain in Times of Drought
When the water is flowing in our segment of a creek that meanders in and out of the invisible property boundaries between our woods and our neighbor’s, I think of the long journey each water molecule is on as it travels toward its ultimate destination, the Gulf of Mexico and beyond into the Atlantic Ocean.
Lichens Everywhere
I am silent as I kneel at the altar made of sandstone, root, and earth wedged into the side of a cut into a hill along a trail in our woods. A blanket of moss gives way to iron-rich sandstone splashed with crustose lichens in shades of aqua and seafoam that brighten the roof of a funnel web woven by spider hidden from view. A hairy woodpecker responds to the calls of a barred owl, alerting other small creatures of a predator in their midst as I narrow my focus from worries and fears to the peacefulness of the moment.
Nothing Much Happens. Everything Happens.
Here in the shadows I see the mosses and the mushrooms, the liverworts and the fallen lichen. They live quiet lives here.
I sit still and wait with them.
The New Year
The story of our woods, and the natural world in general, is found in these active observations. And within this story is our story, the one that connects our lives to the natural world even when we feel disconnected from it and from each other. In Writ Wild, I hope to put into words and images ways that I still feel that connection.
From the Primordial Mixture, Humanity
We tend to separate ourselves from the rest of life, and far too many of us take for granted the tapestry that the threads of our lives are woven within. Life is so much more than just human life.
The Liminal Threshold
We know we belong there just as sure as we know the manufactured world often makes us feel weary and isolated. It is no wonder we crave reminders of our connection to our ancestral past by not just going into Nature but also in surrounding ourselves with photos of beautiful landscapes and falling asleep to the recorded sounds of rain or flowing water or birds and wind within a leafy forest. We collect souvenirs of our time spent in Nature such as rocks, seashells, sticks, feathers, and leaves. Our minds find pleasure and release when we are exposed to that which shaped who we are at the core.