Jim Harrison wrote in his poem, “Time”— Time sinks slowly to the deepest part of the ocean, the Mariana Trench. She’s tired of light and there it’s pure black…She feels abused by clocks. They were never meant to be. She preferred us drifting through our lives like clouds, without dials, machinery, alarms, riding her like the […]Read more "Time"
I asked a friend yesterday, “What propels us toward and along our life’s path?” I have come to believe, I told him, that although I have choice, I choose — have chosen — unfailingly, unerringly and ultimately, my current path. My path is like that of the magnetic North Pole, and I am […]Read more "The Air Was a Cold -7"
Frost touched northwestern Minnesota early Thursday morning. Just like that, summer ended. We now watch the forecast closely, tarps at hand to cover late-ripening tomato and pepper plants. Beets and carrots are pulled; soups simmer in stock pots and slow cookers. Yellow squash is blanched and frozen. Spent plants are gathered and thrown atop the […]Read more "Inevitable Change"