Saturday, October 31, 2015

Saturday, October 10, 2015

Somewhere to call home

Most days, as my dog and I wander away from the river 
we run into folks going the opposite direction--they're heading back home 
to windswept tents and shelters made of willow and tarps and splintered driftwood.

Saturday, September 19, 2015

Watching my daughter change as naturally

as the seasons has made me reconsider my own willingness to let go of old habits and be new everyday. We adults sometimes believe that we hold the secret to living gracefully and well, but I can see that it's the teens around me who are modeling courage and showing me how to open to each day, open to new ways of thinking and being and feeling in this world.

Monday, August 10, 2015

Looking out

to where the river runs into the sea, and I am flying through that opening.

Saturday, July 11, 2015

Tuesday, June 30, 2015

Leaning backwards into cool water,

into the summer afternoon.

Close your eyes and recall the arch of your neck backwards, the way water holds you,
the bright opening in the center of your heart.

Friday, June 26, 2015

Saturday, May 30, 2015

Travelling so fast

the hours dissolve into a memory of color, of wind coming over the ridge.

Thursday, May 14, 2015

Tuesday, May 12, 2015

Sunday, May 10, 2015

Over time, we grow more dear

 to one another, and our vision of each other becomes subtle and varied, 
at rest in a constellation of days together; we begin to see 
each other through a veil of uncountable hours, unnumbered nights.

Saturday, April 18, 2015

The real season of joy

The good news is I feel it all; the bad news: exactly the same. In the winter, 
I find myself longing to hibernate, at odds with the demands of the 24/7 world. But in spring 
and summer, the happiness I know is inexpressible--a kind of delirious love overtakes me.