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Twelfth Day
White breath emerged from our masks. On the fifth morning of Christmas a friend stopped by to load a ton of hay for his horses and cattle. As sunlight filtered through the overcast sky we warmed to the work. Backed to the haystack, the pickup’s tailgate left just enough space to load the lower bales…
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Gift
A friend gave us a handful of cuzinni seeds a few years ago. Being a “Seeder,” the only one I know, he cannot help himself when it comes to seeds. Whether walking a sidewalk or the countryside, he revels in the partaking of seeds freely given by plants. When he tells a story of finding…
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Troubles
kelly clark fotography They set fire and burned a Mi’kmaq lobster pound in Middle West Pubnico to the ground. I had no idea Nova Scotia Mi’kmaq are having significant troubles with commercial fishers until Crow Eddy, Disciple Mi’kmaq artist, friend, and Co-Moderator of the Center for Indigenous Ministries, told me. This was disturbing in at…
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Nickname
Autumn arrives quietly with shortening days and cooler weather. Her arrival is easy to miss in the time of harvest. There is no knock on the front door. She enters through the back door, quietly as if it is her own, and settles down in the kitchen and waits to see if you notice. If not for glancing the…
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Spring 2020
I step outside the back door with a cup of coffee. It’s 5am and the dog needs letting out. It’s March 20 and a moonless morning. The air is as black as the sky. Stars play games with one another to see who is the better showoff. The tiniest beam and shout. Big ones puff…
Chewing the Cud 