The sycamores have surrendered their leaves and I tell her they're deep into winter sleep, though inside I worry for these naked trees— the sentinels of a time that has passed. "Why do you care about nature so much?" she asks as we walk through a dry stream bed. With careful footing around stream boulders I manage to… Continue reading Elegy for the Sycamores I: The Lie I Tell My Granddaughter
Month: October 2019
Power Tools
Lately I'm compelled to cut any tree or shrub I can find that needs me—pomegranate limbs work well, and overzealous rosemary. Because they don't resist, but seem to listen and tolerate the state of regret that sticks to me like pitch from a wounded tree. Because cutting distracts me from senseless mass shootings, and shooting… Continue reading Power Tools
Redemption for a Black Swallowtail
"Hope is the thing with feathers." Emily Dickinson This isn't a butterfly's exodus tale. It's more of a genesis tale about a caterpillar fat with weeks of greed who bowed to the need to be redeemed and bent in prayer… Continue reading Redemption for a Black Swallowtail
Elegy for the Sycamores II: Before the Fires Take Them
Year after year I return to sit by this old stream bed framed in sycamore trees and watch as they slowly let go of their leaves to begin their long and silent good-byes. My elders, the tribe of the sycamore tree— they watched over us throughout our childhood as godparents, when they patiently stood… Continue reading Elegy for the Sycamores II: Before the Fires Take Them