Nature

  • The Wind

    I am here. Can you feel me? I am the wind. I am the wind. Continue reading

  • Sacred Sorrow

    I was on my knees, in the garden. If she was a person, we would have been forehead to forehead, and I would be whispering my sorry into her skin. But she was not a person. She was a plant.… Continue reading

  • The River and The Stone

    The river is always changed after the stone has pierced her still waters. Continue reading

  • Rain

    Today, there is rain. And the most beautiful peace. Continue reading

  • Wildflowers

    I must remind myself: the wildflowers will wait. Continue reading

  • The Consciousness of Plants

    The garden is abundant with Calla Lillies. There is something about them that I know, something that speaks to me through the softness and sway of their leaves and sweeping, cupped petal. Theirs is an energy much like the soft… Continue reading

  • All My Softness

    I am home when the beautiful song of my heart is at peace. There is nothing loud, here, nothing beyond the birds and the rippling pools of shadow on brick. I am just me, in all of my softness. Me,… Continue reading

  • Withering

    A rose. Think of it. How like a rose we are. Beginning as seed, gently, a bud. How we open, slowly, never seeing our petals born; never guessing when, at last, the last will fall. And when we wither, wrinkle… Continue reading

  • The Orchard

    As I sit quietly, alone, with the birds as my friends, I watch the orchard sway with the breeze and I ask myself: Is it the orchard, alone, I see? Or has the orchard become the miraculous creation of the… Continue reading

  • Seasons

    And when there is sun such as this, and when there is beautiful drift and swaying trees, I see life as it is and I know it is good. For, the mind, I know tells stories. And yet perfect truth… Continue reading