The Lie I Tell My Granddaughter

"Why do you care about nature so much?" she asks as we walk through a dry stream bed. The sycamores have surrendered their leaves and I tell her they're deep into winter sleep, though inside I worry for these naked trees— these sentinels of a time that has passed.   With careful footing around stream boulders I manage… Continue reading The Lie I Tell My Granddaughter

This Mute Moment in Time

Year after year I return to sit by this old stream bed framed in sycamore trees and watch as they slowly release their leaves to begin the long and silent good-byes. My elders, the tribe of the sycamore tree— they watched over us throughout our childhood as sentinels, when they patiently stood in our yard… Continue reading This Mute Moment in Time