Saturday, March 30, 2013


 transitional times like march and november
move me 
i must go outside
(hence my absence from the ethers)
and i have been making lots of ecoprints
  i did get out on my land
several times
and found a stack of rock books
this rock i've not seen in years
in fact, having lived on this piece of north country
for 26 years,
 much has changed,
is changing
the stream has become a series
of ponds
six now, i think
as beaver rearrange the land to their suiting
 i walked across several dams
 became dazzled by the late afternoon
brilliant sunlight
 saw myself reflected on ice
 and walked gingerly around such trees
 there were other dam visitors
before me.
 while there i heard some birds, chickadees mostly,
beginning to think about spring
 i've ridden my horses, skied, and walked,
sometimes hauling out a child or a load of stuff
up this hill from the woods
this is the back of my pasture
and there i am with a bag of plant bits
 i often come out here and just 
stretch out on a rock
or examine the plants
or watch a woodchuck hole, a rabbit run, a deer trail.
it's really growing up to brush now
without grazing animals on it
there are still
milkweed blessings 
all over this place.
at work the men were talking of milkweed
how toxic it is, blah, blah, blah,
and i told them i'd eaten it.
poor (wo)man's asparagus.
mouths fell open,
(i grinned)


  1. I love that you told the men you'd eaten milkweed... and that their mouths fell open. And how did milkweed come up in their conversation, I'm wondering?

    Thanks for the lovely visuals, and I've noticed you were out and about... if there were less snow, I'd surely be, too. On the road I'd be wading in mud, in the forest, sinking, sinking down in snow. Feel it a bother to strap on snowshoes... I'm actually, for the first time ever, looking forward to the melt!

  2. valerie, the men think that the only people that know about the natural world a hunters and fishers...and when i know something, like i inevitably do, it discombobulates them. i love it. may you have sun/melt!

  3. Velma, I just love the way you think and live in this world.

  4. rock books----- gorgeous.... still marvelling at snow -- and now beavers

  5. so nice to walk 'with you' through your world - as mine gets ready for winter. >>> Gina

  6. i know nothing about milkweed but this made me laugh ;-)

  7. m, thanks.
    penny, thank you so very much!
    m.c., it was a brilliant out west sort of color.
    ronnie, you must come for snow--i'll teach you to ski!
    gina, i remember winter in melbourne last june/july! it was not very cold, but little daylight for sure,
    m.d., i love making those guys see that someone who goes out onto the land without a weapon can still know a thing or two about nature

  8. Wonderful - Spring is on its way!!

  9. After reading this earlier,
    (and wishing that I could see beavers in real life- they fascinate me)
    I took your little book out in the new spring sunshine, to re-read,
    and still love the line "it tasted pink". Thank you again for sharing this piece of your world.
    & I'll bet it was a brilliant grin!

  10. those tracks remind me of muskrat tracks--like tiny hands. we're still knee deep in snow and dazzling sunshine as well.

  11. wyn, it is indeed, changes daily.
    cindy, that makes me so happy to read. you loved some words i found. so happy. (and i'm always forgetting that your name is cindy, sorry)
    joni, they could have been, or raccoon?

  12. it's not a name i'm particularly fond of or attached to, so please don't be sorry! x

  13. Transitional times like Spring and Autumn move me too. I so enjoyed this walk with you and still smiling at the milkweed story. What gorgeous pods!

  14. robyn, i'm very glad you came along. it's all about those changes, in spring and fall they are daily, and wondrous


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