It’s the start of the new year. Another year of anxiety stretches before me. It’s a strange thing how my life has become a day-in-day-out struggle with worry. Of course, worry is not all that stretches before me. If I try, if I just try, I will hear and see and experience more than worry. […]Read more "A Different World"
Let yourself be silently drawn by the stronger pull of what you really love. —Rumi I want to tell you about running in the early morning, stepping away from the house and heading up the driveway, a quarter-mile long. To run outside in the early morning began as an idea and then became a commitment […]Read more "The Stronger Pull"
The sun sets today in eleven minutes. The sky is overcast, and even on this more temperate day — for last week was bitterly and unseasonably cold — it is cold outside, and November dark. A month ago, hiking in the Fertile Sand Hills, I could not imagine this day. In mid-October the trees were […]Read more "Another Year Is Gone"
It is the end of October. In one short month, autumn has peaked and closed. The mornings are dark and cold. The evenings are short and shorter ushering in the long winter nights to come. I have located my snowboots and showshoes, my hats and mittens, my scarves and heavy pants. I have inspected my […]Read more "The Universe Is a Procession"
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"
It is the end of a year. It was not an easy year. I look back on the year past and wince shielding my inner-eye from the pain of my mother’s illness and death, the blur of unexpected activity, long hours spent on the road traveling between Minnesota and Illinois: winter weather, freezing fog, snow […]Read more "There Is A Field"
I wake now to the gray skies of November, mornings begun in darkness, workdays ending in the same. Final skeins of migrating geese stretch pencil-thin against the clouds; snow squalls blow suddenly from the north, halt, then blow again. The sun makes its appearance, apologizes, and disappears. The wind bites. The temperature drops. Winter returns. […]Read more "Winter Again"
From as far back as I can remember, I’ve wished for companionship — a companion. And now as I near the last years of my life, I realize that though this dreamed-for companionship will elude me, I have somehow, in some unplanned way, filled that need with my own self. As I bicycle down gravel […]Read more "I Dream of Journeys"
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"
The world is cloudy this morning — gray with late-winter light — but yesterday! Yesterday was really something! Something to get out into; something beautiful and bright! Blue skies stretched from east to west. The March sun held warmth — real warmth — and I celebrated with hands bared as I snowshoed across the compacting drifts, […]Read more "Slowly We Return to Earth, or a Walk in the March Sun"