There is the day your friend visits and finds the trees heavy with fruit. Ripe. Rotten almost. The apples riddled with worms. You’ve let them drop to the ground. One after another. Hoping a bear will come. Or deer. To eat the apples. Your friend says, you know these will make great cider, right? …
Methow Valley
I heard you grieve little has been going your way in the hills and valley of where we stand in the wind on a ridge above a valley, deep into pine and oak, lupine and sunflower. Deep into the learning of creatures small or ungulate, like the ones grazing the meadow, below. Maybe you know these…
Jellyfish
“Do it again,” the kids yell. They crowd around as my husband leans over the side of the dock and traces his hand through the water. Flashes of green spark in the water. We all bend toward the water and splash our fingers, making trails of color in the dark. “Bioluminescence,” my husband says and…
