Wild Thoughts

Beneath ice, water stirs.
Rivers still run.
Lakes sway gently,
as fish gather
in warm water pockets;
and beaver, otter, and weasels
nestle in their dens
moving about under their frozen ceiling.

There is a pause now
this quiet Solstice time
before light slowly lengthens.

The temptation, to count the days.
To hold our breath
until daylight stretches into evening
early morning forcing back the darkness.

For the peace and promise of a sunrise.
The quickening of breath that comes
when we take in the beauty of our surroundings.

For the mystery and humility
of daring to see how we are all connected.

That’s what they call it.
When we in the north
find ourselves in shirt sleeves in November.
It feels like borrowed time.
A chance to finish up fall chores
that we thought would be missed.

Once in a while, we get a sense
of how quickly things move
even on a very large scale.

Experience teaches us to act quickly or not at all
when sunset glows golden pink in the sky.

Much of the time
we find what we are looking for–
be that keys or trouble
or some form of our heart’s desire.

It’s not news that what we turn our attention toward
ultimately gets our attention.

If you looked outside today
you’d swear it would be warm.
Apple blossoms have come and gone
rain has brought rich green to every view.

A few days ago, I asked for the help of our Wild community to get Tuu Weh to Dallas. As we all know, Tuu Weh is the center of attention where ever she goes. So, I shouldn’t have been surprised when we received such an outpouring of support from so…

Reveling is a lost art–
it’s gratitude’s crazy old auntie,
who is someone I definitely want
to greet at the door with a big hug,
share a piece of cake with lots of frosting,
then go outside and make snow angels together!

Ice on the lake measures more than 12 inches thick.
What more perfect invitation need there be
to lie atop the lake that you paddled just months ago?