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I hear the geese as they land on the river. They drag their feet through the muddy currents, their wings beating backward, their necks long, and curved, like a flower nodding on its stem. There are only two of them, and they float slowly amongst the ducks. Above them, an osprey calls out, a…
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As I walk through the waterleaf, I feel, with joy, the old forest–the dark, furrowed cedars, the tall oaks in the clearing, the endless paths untouched by pavement. Not long ago there was only ivy here, but now the waterleaf has won. The sun holds close to their fine-haired leaves, lighting them from above…
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The sky holds on to blue long after sunset, condensed from day soaking into night, a blue like the blush on elderberries, like water as a cloud passes, calm, over a stream. I want to reach out and hold on to it, wrap it around me, jump into it, this, the last long blue…
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I look out the window at the poplar, leaves hanging, ancient, like a willow. It blows in the wind like sea grass, liquid, slow-motion, great sweeps that rest, dangling, between winds. Behind the poplar, the sky darkens, a muted gray-purple, holding both sunset and rain, the color of river rocks.
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You walk past the salmonberries, the newly unfurling maidenhair fern; the false-lily-of-the-valley tucked darkly beneath the Indian plum. You talk over the robin’s song, and step through the bunches of wood sorrel, flattening their stems as you walk. You don’t get excited over a coltsfoot flower rising long-stalked above the understory. You don’t stop…
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I stare at the tree with spots on its side, imprinted into the bark as though brushed with paint to mimic the soft, white spots of a deer. I watch this tree rock in the wind before the storm, turn darker under gathering cloud-light, its branches heavy with maple tree flowers hanging down like…
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I thought it would be helpful to compile a list of all the independent bookstores in Oregon! As a local author, I find this list really helpful when looking for places to schedule events. Also, it’s fun to visit local bookstores while traveling around the state! I hope this list is helpful for you,…
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A single tree shines green above the concrete, the sun cutting through it from the side, resting on the leaves the way I once saw light filter through alder trees at the river, back when I stood ankle-deep in the catkin-littered creek, and followed it out to the moss, and crawdads, and swirls of…
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In the darkness, the air begins to smell of drops of water on fallen needles, and rain pulled densely into moss, startled like glass. Can you hear it, there, the shifting of the old mountains underfoot, slumped by wind and the slow trickle of water, the clay skin, the granite stones, the piles of…