The rains have finally returned, refreshing the Earth and spurring the trees into leaf change. Now, as seems to be the pattern following dry late summers, we carefully watch a hurricane as it moves close to the coast.
I awoke a little after 6 this morning; the world was still dark, and rain drummed lightly on the bedroom windows. It seems only a couple of weeks ago that it was light at 4:30!
Yesterday I joined Deb Reger and Dee Brightstar on Moccasin Tracks, for a conversation about Native identity. The radio hour danced joyfully by as we compared notes, listed to Native music, and laughed our way through a usually challenging conversation. Miraculously, the conversation remained playful, up-beat, and Coyote infused. I am grateful for being invited back! Continue reading
The day is cool and breezy. Clear, blue skies hold the first flotations of autumn leaves. Nights have turned chilly, and the turning year leads us toward the resting time.
I recently met with a young person who was suffering. That meeting left me thinking about how, when we are young, it is so easy for life to leave us in despair. Not that we don’t hurt later; maybe it’s just that when we are young our hopes and expectations are fresh, and, when we are disappointed or betrayed, we feel it keenly. Pain may seem unbearable then. Continue reading
Yesterday was the Autumn Equinox, and I joined a goodly group of other folks who had gathered at the fishing pier to watch the sunset.
Last night’s sunset was quietly engaging, filled with the promise of autumn. The moon watched, totally engrossed, along with us. Continue reading
Last night we had brief squalls of driving rain, although not enough to challenge the growing dryness. Today is a prototypically perfect autumn day in New England.
The last few days I’ve been deep in conversation with some folks who are determined to challenge the city’s development plans, plans that threaten to undermine the lives of many in our lovely south end, and perhaps displace the hundreds of artists who have studios there. Out of these conversations has arisen, for me, an intense awareness of the lack context that surrounds such battles. Continue reading
I’ve been out watering the gardens and window boxes. We are in the midst of a prolonged period of warm, dry weather. We’ve even had a couple of record warm days this past couple of weeks, and may have more this coming week. The gardens have slowed down, although the peppers and green beans are still producing abundantly. The grass continues to grow, long after we would normally pretty much forget about it.
The maple tree outside our office window has turned red, although there remain areas of green and the reds are not at their full intensity yet. A few other trees have begun to turn, yet green still far predominates the landscape. We may be a week away from astronomical fall, but summer shows few signs of moving aside to let the cold season in. Continue reading
We’ve been fretting about the state of the world. The other evening we put those worries aside and kayaked on the lake. We were at Sand Bar State Park, a lovely sandy beach with hills running into the lake on the north and south. Those hills used to be mountains, perhaps taller than the Himalayas are now.
The hills are rocky and tree covered. Twelve thousand years ago or so they were barren, having been scraped clean by Ice Age glaciers. Traditional people would have followed the retreating glaciers, so probably arrived in what’s now Vermont about then. By the time Europeans arrived, the dense forests of New England would have appeared to have been here forever. Continue reading