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The Autumnal Equinox
98 wordsThe sky is not empty. Not yet, but soon. Inside the wind is a Turkey-Vulture. Wings stroked by clouds, against blue that is steady, or moving, or both; the swishing silence of deep ocean, where perhaps the Turkey-Vulture escapes the songs of smaller birds, songs that writhe in his throat with longing. What might he himself sing? Of…
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Heeding The Call of the Wild
781 wordsThe poet Robert Service, according to my high school English teacher, has always been considered more of a word-rhymer than a literary artist. “This isn’t really what we would call quality poetry,” my teacher said when I asked her to approve my choice of poem. Our senior year assignment was to memorize and recite a poem to the class. We…
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Crater Lake — A National Park Left Unprotected
603 wordsThe first time I visited Crater Lake National Park, the November wind was so cold that my lips became numb. My cheeks soon succumbed to the cold as well and, eventually, so did my entire face. I’d neglected to bring a hat, so in an act of creative desperation, I tied my scarf around my ears…
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Reawakening
229 wordsAs a child, the cool, soil-moist air rising from the creek commanded stillness, silence, and reverence. I often stood in the light of the vine-maple sky, spider webs still glued to the sides of my face, and I watched it all glimmer. For long first moments, I stared. There was my breath, there was the…
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