I remember the scent of the mountains in summer, of pine and cedar, of pressing my nose into the bark of a Ponderosa pine for a whiff of vanilla; of the sharp scent of sage after a summer storm. Here by the lake the air is cold and clear, but later there will be the … Continue reading Inhale

The robins returned to our crabapple tree last week. Though the snow lay deep, still they came, singing, announcing that spring has arrived although the snow still flutters down and all lies frozen and frosted white. The world waits now in a kind of winter, still and dormant under the grip of a virus. We … Continue reading Robins

I remember him, waiting here in the still whiteness of winter. I remember the first time he came to me, and the last. I remember the celebrations, and the long walks in silence. I remember, in the bread and the cup. In the songs and the worn pages, marked. In the breeze, in the warm … Continue reading Remembering