On a Friday night in early August, Jeff, our eldest son Casey, and I pitched our tents on the meadow-y shore of Becker Lake in Wyoming’s Beartooth Range. A low pressure system had delayed our seven-day hike by 24 hours, but now the weather had broken, and we’d decided to go for it. At 5 a.m. the next morning, we woke to the sound of drizzle stinging against our tarp. It might have been sleet: too dark to see. By … Continue
One evening in June, I launched down the Munson Hills trail on my old green bike, hoping to out-ride the fury and the helplessness that had settled in my soul. Usually when I’m riding or walking in the woods, I’m moving towards things I love. Wildflowers. Gopher tortoises. Solitude. But that night, my mind was all tangled up with the evils unleashed by people with too much power and no good manners. A plan to hunt and kill black bears … Continue
It had been a pleasure-full day on the water, three hours or more swimming and meandering among batfish, a couple rays, a green sea turtle, schools of small fry, several puffer fish. A time of solitude and little sound, only the harshness of breath through snorkel. The Gulf was warm, benign, amniotic, nothing to fear. We had dawdled over lunch, even agreed to slide back into the water and make another pass for scallops. The air had been so still … Continue
I am a person of the coast, although much of the year I live 30 miles inland. I can sometimes feel deprived when I’m not down at the edge, where all is clear to see. Beginning on winter solstice 2014, I began a practice of observing and meditating on the comfort of the annual cycles of sunlight, wherever I am. My own home has become a tiny Stonehenge, a still place to receive the light. On the winter solstice in … Continue
The strange business of writing requires more time sitting still than I enjoy. At home I can distract myself with laundry, food prep, family errands, or picking up the house. Almost anything seems more urgent than the desk work I say I want to do. Thus, the writers’ retreat. I’m wrapping up six days at the Bowers House in northern Georgia. There’s nothing within walking distance except a dollar store, post office, and a very old abandoned jail house. … Continue
Some years ago, Jeff and I traveled to Iceland to see that amazing island country, with our friends David and Crystal. Part of my desire to visit those glaciers and icebergs was my need to understand and experience the source of the water that is raising the level of our Gulf of Mexico, and all the planet’s seas. I feel so grateful that the story has just been published in Tikkun, a marvelous journal that bills itself as “A … Continue
When I approach the island, even before my kayak nudges into the sand, the first thing I look for are possible predators: crows, osprey, eagle, laughing gull—or the tracks of a trespassing human. I’m surprised to see the broad wings of a turkey vulture skimming over the sand, tilting on the updrafts, on the look out for food. Right on its tail, three American oystercatchers escort the vulture off the island. They pipe loudly and push the vulture out of … Continue
I walked along the edge of a marsh yesterday, and I came upon the body of a stingray. The ray had been dead a day or two, but it still seemed sentient to me, the way its wingtips rose and fell, gentled, in time with the small beats of the tide. Hermit crabs were making a meal of the ray’s body. With their front claws, they excavated bits of flesh, and fed themselves. They nibbled at the edges of the … Continue
Friends, something a little different today! I am guest blogger on one of my sister’s sites, called Jungle Red Writers. They bill themselves as “7 smart and sassy crime fiction writers dish on writing and life. It’s The View. With bodies!” Check them out at http://www.jungleredwriters.com/ Bobbie (aka Roberta Isleib) (aka Lucy Burdette) and I, have been writing together since we were toddlers. It took a while to figure out what we wanted to say, but we know, now! … Continue
Do you remember pivotal moments when you realized, or began to grow into, your purpose in this lifetime on Earth? I’ve been thinking about such a moment in my own life. It took place in a most unexpected setting, an introductory ornamental horticulture class at theUniversity of Florida, about 1980. Our professor, Dr. Bill Barrick, was a gifted man of plants. He was younger than most of the other instructors, dressed stylishly, and invited us graduate students to elegant dinners … Continue