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…

Campfire Stories

One summer evening, after the sailboat is anchored and the campfire lit, they watch the beam from the lighthouse at the end of the pier. They sit on the beach near the fire, the girl and her siblings, all five of them and her mother with curled brown hair and the father too. They put marshmallows and…

A New Year Wish

  January dissolves to grey. The kind of grey that seeps through the windows long after I’ve started my day. Clouds hang low spilling rain and melting frost from the branches, ice from the pond. Pretend it hasn’t started like this before, these dreaded days after the holidays when I realize the shortness of the days,  the depth of…