My essay, “Ama,” published in Crab Orchard Review, has been chosen as a Notable for The Best American Essays 2010. Although, I did not get selected for the final book, I am proud to be among such authors as Barry Lopez, Susan Orlean, Paul Theroux, Naomi Klein and many others who also made the Notable […]
After a busy day of dealing with car repairs and shopping for Thanksgiving food, I didn’t want to walk the dog in our nearby park. I really didn’t. But then I crested the top of Mt. Tabor and found this wintry late afternoon light with its long shadows burnishing the snow-dusted ground and trees.
I’m pretty sure I haven’t seen any sun for several weeks now (probably an exaggeration, but that’s how it feels)…
…so this glowing light and color seemed all the more special.
More like, “Where I Try to Write.” I’m about to head back to the city for the winter. As much as I’m looking forward to an indoor toilet and indoor shower, I’m also longing for a private writing space (…)
Out West, in the land of conifers, we don’t have the color spectacle that blesses New England this time of year. But our few wild deciduous shrubs and trees do add some lovely accents to our evergreen forests and browning grasslands (…)
We don’t bother the Northern Pacific Rattlesnakes that live on the wilder parts of our property. It’s easy enough to walk around them. But when they appear near our yurt and garden, it’s a little close for comfort (…)
On this day of global action for climate change, I’m once again too busy on the land — preparing garlic beds, planting cover crops, taking stock of what we need to do to manage our ponderosa pine forests and weed-infested pastures — to participate in group events (…)
With all the rain out over the last few weeks and the challenges of getting the summer garden in, I’ve been grateful for food that sprouts with no effort on my part. I might not want stinging nettles in my cultivated garden, but I like having a patch on a distant corner of our property. […]
Rain. Day before last, it was relentless. We had a reprieve yesterday, and I got some planting done, but most of my garden is flooded and impossible to work. I’m already a week or two behind. In this short season, that could mean a lean year for vegetables. So when I woke at five this […]
People often ask me what it’s like to live in a yurt. As I wrote in an essay published in The Smoking Poet last Fall, much of the living goes on around the yurt rather than in it. And that’s as it should be with a shelter traditionally used by nomads. Take the shower. There’s […]
I’m ecstatic to be back on our property in Northeastern Oregon. There’s lots to do: organizing inside the yurt to make cooking and storage more convenient, building a spring box and laying pipe to get potable water into the yurt, putting in the garden. And there are many challenges: a muddy road, cars that get […]
Last week, I started writing and sharing photos around an idea I’m tentatively calling, Rocks I Have Loved. I’m not sure where that idea is going yet. It might be a series of posts, a photo album, a sequence of poems and/or essays, or nothing. I should clarify that I use the term “rocks” loosely to refer to caves, piles or layers of rocks, canyons, mountains, mountain ranges. This week, I consider one rock I should have loved from a distance….
‘m sad that I’m not participating in the poem-a-day madness of National Poetry Month. That’s what pulled me into a poetry last year. I hoped to discover new ways to bring music and imagery into my prose, never thinking I’d fall in love with writing and reading poetry itself (something I’d always avoided)….