Stupid Bird
I have been crying over a bald eagle I never met. Jackie died this morning in Ojai. She was fourteen. Three weeks ago two younger eagles jumped her near the lake and…
Alive and breathing in SW Washington
A quiet place for writing about the garden, the workshop, the woods, and whatever else is keeping my attention. Pull up a chair.
— Cindy
I have been crying over a bald eagle I never met. Jackie died this morning in Ojai. She was fourteen. Three weeks ago two younger eagles jumped her near the lake and…
I googled myself the other day. (Everyone does it. Fewer of us admit it.) What came back wasn’t a headshot or some LinkedIn ghost of a former job, it was Gene Gable,…
I read an essay in June called “The Wound Is the Product.” Robert Malone wrote it. He’s mostly writing about people with subscriber lists and donation buttons, and his argument is that…
I was wiping down the kitchen counter. My right hand was sweeping along in that lazy figure-eight motion you don’t think about, heading straight for a mason jar. Before I registered the…
Roadie came to us at four weeks old, the son of a local feral female. We snagged him early and weaned him ourselves. He was one of three kittens. The other two…
I’ve started keeping a tally, which is the surest sign a thing has caught my curiosity and won’t quit. The phrase is “my husband.” Women here say it constantly. My husband put…
The old adage about teaching old dogs new tricks doesn’t hold up well around here. I’ve spent my whole working life learning and adapting, though not in the way you might picture.…
I read something this morning that made me close the laptop and go outside. It doesn’t much matter what it was, which is sort of the point. A take, delivered with complete…
The frogs are back. They started singing in March, same as the last two years, and the pond greeted five or six of them — sometimes closer to ten when I count…
September 2016 of our yearlong cross country adventure.
And while we watch the animals in their joys of being, in their grace and ferociousness, a thought becomes more and more clear. That it is not so much a look at wild nature, as it is an insight into ourselves, our nature.
— Werner Herzog, Movie: Grizzly Man (2005)