Four unforgettable days in Mendocino, California — celebrating friendship, food, and a birthday by the sea. A charming white-picket-fence town where coastal breezes, laughter, and even ravens add their own kind of magic.
Seagulls’ simplicity and single-mindedness lays bare the basic necessities of their lives, their groundhog day existence: eat, mingle, survive, forage, fly together, chase shrimp boats, sleep, make raucous noises—and repeat.
Random word sets are the basis for not-so-random haiku; find your own meaning in the wise crow and the wiser Dad.
Poetry challenge from the dVerse Poets Pub is to write a quadrille (44-word poem) using the word “with” in some form.
We’re finally back at Little House in the Rockies, taking some vacation time to enjoy the gorgeous fall weather at our little cabin in central Colorado.
A poem about ripples reminding of those days of cooking and wine, stories and trust, laughter and imagination, acceptance and love.
An open reflection in prose form on the hopefulness factor of celebrating the new year, illustrated by numerous species of shorebirds with a seemingly collective sense of peace and purpose.
The sky in Bay St. Louis is luminous, intoxicating, and just can’t take a bad photo, so I wrote a haiku to honor it.
Everyone touches the world in their own way. Making my own tiny imprint through this blog, I need to balance the dark with the light, the yin with the yang. This post and poem are gentle and positive.
Pumpkin spice is a thing, a social movement, a gotta-have-mine-it’s-October pull of nature almost stronger than a biological clock, but geeeeez, trying to project that onto poor birds seems like a Big Bad Bird Wrong
A family of geese came and went, causing us to worry about predators: gators and eagles and hawks, oh my!
We’re all waiting for the day when friends can once again be greeted with a bear hug.
A pair of new studies show how birds improve our wellbeing, adding to a growing body of evidence that avians are an antidote to our despair.
We celebrate, honor and value birds, today and every day.
We are all armchair travelers right now during the trials of COVID-19, and today I’m thinking of an afternoon stroll, a long conversation and the birds in St. James Park.
Practicing mindfulness, I really looked at this bird house when I came upon it in a friend’s yard. What would it look like to a bird?
Seagulls and brown pelicans in Bay St. Louis give me a lesson in mindfulness reminiscent of Thoreau’s experience at Walden
