I Am Free

Holy Week begins with water and fire. On Palm Sunday, I wake up in the dark to the rolling of thunder, echoing around and around these mountains that ring my city in, a sound that seems to go on for whole minutes before dying into dim, rumbling whispers and going out. It reminds me of…

Shepherd and Sugarmaker

There are two ways to know it is spring, on my farm. The sap begins to run, and the ewes go heavy into lambing. These things don’t always begin in the same order, but they belong together, and almost always overlap. My father says maple syrup is the first crop of spring. My mother says…

Ashes to Beauty

March 6th, Ash Wednesday This post is coming to you a day late and a dollar short, as per my usual style–with both blog posts and Christmas gifts (yeah sis so I still have your gift sitting on my desk uhhhmmmmm its March now yep). — On the morning of this first day of Lent,…

Signatures

I trudge, wading and sinking, in the woods. The snow lies deep, up several inches over my knees, nearly to my waist where the trees are thin and the branches less likely to block the falling blizzard. The dogs burrow ahead of me, almost swimming, unable to move save by great bounding leaps forward, one…

Gifts

The world is cold, and startlingly deep blue, when I go out. I have woken in the dark before the dark before dawn, and the stars are blazing, blazing. The house is still–not even the dog wakes, when I creep downstairs in my socks, shawl over my arm, and search for shoes in the dark….

Making Modifications

The first snowfall is a kind of magic. In the dark, everything seems to press closer. On the road in front of me, the wind picks up last week’s fallen leaves, stirring them with the white snow and the shadows, mixing autumn into winter into the long, slow sleep of the night. We are sliding…

Thresholds

9/1 for M. These last days run, a watercolor still wet from the brush, sliding together in great, shining strokes. Laden, sunlight like tears too bright not to weep. I am looping back along a span of double-promised sunsets, cross leggéd in the grass, knees slung together unconscious and at ease. I am returning to…

Mirage

The field glows golden in the sunset, rolling back and back until it finally gives way to the mountains, blue fading into dim silver in the distance. The sun, perched on the western horizon, turns the edges of everything gilt, painting the trees, our set, the hair of the children running in the grass. Running–one…

When We Matter

Two days. This thought is, I suspect, in all of our minds as rehearsal finishes and we begin to collect ourselves for the drive home. Two days. The next time we gather, it will be the morning before our opening performance. It might be surreal, only I am too tired to notice. It is my…

Reverse Osmosis

The movement of fresh water through a semipermeable membrane when pressure is applied to a solution (such as seawater) on one side of it. –Merriam-Webster 6/30/2018 Take your place along this road, asphalt cracked and shone through green, blades sprung up in the in-between like a question-marked shaking, sharp dew-edged glint. Take your place along…

Half an Acre

I find myself at seven o’clock on a Friday evening, sitting in the breezy haven of my bright living room, alone with myself (and, of course, the kittens). It doesn’t dawn on me that it is Friday, and thus an evening of freedom, until I have done a bit of cleaning, have eaten my dinner,…

May

  The rain falls, falls. The valley is filled with mist, the ridge above my home is blanketed, the woods drip and steam. At night, I lie awake and listen to the stream, swelling past its banks at the bottom of the pasture. The river races itself, hurrying to get, well, anywhere. Fields, finally beginning…