I’ve been watching my local creek respond to a prolonged spell of bitter cold. Like a living, growing scab, solid ice has covered the surface. It’s both beautiful and evil. Continuously forming, fascinating patterns appeared. It tempts me to trust; “Take a step.” In most places the ice was inches thick. But elsewhere were pockets…
Days of endless frigid weather leaves me to wonder how anything can survive. My survival is far removed from the harsh reality of winter. Inside, my warm home contains a refrigerator that must run to keep its contents–my food–cold. Outside, while looking for signs of nourishment and life, I found a clump of green grass…
Remarkable, invisible forces surround us all the time. The existence of the spiritual are left to faith, belief, or an inner knowingness. The existence of the scientific, meanwhile, is occasionally exposed, like the pull of gravity illuminated by near-weightless snow. As I pull down the 2017 calendar from its place on my office wall, I…
Yes, this past Friday — Black Friday — I took the challenge. I got up early. Packed my bag with supplies. Double checked my planned route…
A sense of place: It drives me to explore the immediate world around me. All of what has happened in a place remains…
The artist creates her best work when
This past Wednesday was the first day of summer. I could have seen the world outside without artificial light during all the hours I was awake. Yet, I stayed indoors. Why? I wasn’t up to the threat. Counteracting my endless encouragement, want, and need to stay connected to the outdoors are thousands of tiny, biting…
The majority of my walks are taken in the quiet solitude of the woodlands or other country path. But that doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy a good walk in the city.
It’s not unusual for me to find and collect litter and other trash on my walks. Frankly, as my husband will agree, the habit can be a filthy pain in the neck. So it was exceptionally nice to get a tasty reward for participating in a local Earth Day clean up. Moreover, it was liberating…
Walking along the old Pennsylvania mill streams this time of year, I often find myself engaged in a childish treasure hunt, one better than any Easter egg hunt I’ve ever experienced. Golf balls. Left behind after the spring floods recede, they lodge like stones in the mounds of silt. Yesterday, I found seven within the…