catch a wave

On my way to the prairie this morning, I called my mom.  She was sitting on the porch on Edisto Island watching terns in the sky sail above the rolling waves of the Atlantic. After we hung up, I watched Cooper's tail slice through the tall grass like a shark fin through the waves and waves of golden brown grass. 

the story

Sometimes the story is clear. Like the time I saw the nuthatch, cold to the touch, with a bur oak acorn next to her, feathers stuck in the small spikes of the acorn shell. 

Sometimes it's not as clear. This was recent, blood still caked on the edges and not yet frozen. 

doors

Where does it lead? Let your imagination go and let go of the logical answer. This is an exercise for grown ups. 

golden tall grass

Glowing in the last rays of sunlight in the early evening.

a few shots from December in Maine

Just wanted to share a few more shots from December in Maine. More Nebraska adventures to come...

good light in the prairie

today, a poem from Nebraska

COTTONWOOD

William Kloefkorn

1982 Nebraska State Poet

Teach us of roots, 

Of the soft diurnal showering of seed. 

Aware of soil and water, speak then to us of fire:

How driftwood moves on borrowed stems, 

How elemental are the gatherings.

With branches splayed

Describe the broad blue seasons, 

And their winds. Say it:

Because of me the roosted bird is tiny, 

The lighting more than likely. 

However then transected, 

Chant with your breadth a liturgy of growth rings. 

Ooze from your impacted pores

The simple juice of need:

Of roots, becoming as they are, 

Of the soft diurnal showering of seed.