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Winter Settles
When winter arrives, as it has, place settles. Quiet no longer moves across the landscape. Quiet is. Over the years a path has been worn between the house and the winter water trough. It is walked many times during the summer. During the winter though, I walk it often. Winter water is always work. Good work. But when cold settles and…
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Fog
Fog defines this week. In the morning it lies heavy upon the ground. Close and overbearing, you cannot see the barn as you set out to feed. Some afternoons the fog lightens. Wispy and whispering strands lay across the ridge. One afternoon, a strand of fog slipped east along the ridge just above a horse trail where half a…
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A Bag
July 28, 2024 I stood and let her pass. The odd airplane shuffle took place. Sliding pass, she sat down in the window seat and slid the red and orange bag under the seat. There were more than colors to the bag, but with an aisle full of anxious people waiting to find their seat I returned…
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Trusting We Matter to Our Siblings
Over the next few weeks I am visiting west and southwest US reserves, ceded, and unceded landscapes. The western viewscape easily holds my attention for hours. Yet, while driving, I am bound to turn to the radio.
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Beloved Creation
Quail are a good measure of the day’s cold. Each evening a covey settles in the wild willows west of home near the cattle’s water trough. During summers height they sometimes don’t make it back from the wonder of a day’s wandering and instead roost in the bramble of a long-abandoned irrigation ditch. Walking by them on a…
Chewing the Cud 