During a difficult summer, I find refuge on a series of interconnected 19th-century footpaths in the White Mountains of New Hampshire. The rain-soaked spruces and firs and wildly running mountain brooks bring comfort and joy. (Note: This blog was written before Hurricane Ida. My heart goes out to everyone in the path of the storm.)
Brood X has emerged from 17 years underground and is serenading us with an otherworldly chorus. These amazing periodical cicadas inspired me to write my first published poem, comparing their mathematically determined arrival with our own shaky emergence from the pandemic.
Take a virtual spring stroll through Rock Creek Park under the newly leafed canopy. The wild azaleas are blooming and the wood thrush is back!
This year spring comes with added expectations. Will our year-long pandemic yield a true metaphorical spring along with our actual one?
This week we received a multi-day blessing in Washington, a city much in need of a blessing: snow, our first real snow in two years.
“Our dear precious Capitol Grounds trees stand tall today. I feel these trees are all Witness Trees.”
“There’s no such thing as bad weather, only bad clothes.” Winter in Washington offers unparalleled beauty to the trained eye.
Here is my first blog post, written on a sunny and colorful October day in Washington, DC. I hope you’re finding solace in autumn beauty wherever you live!