letters-from-two-lands

Letters from Two Lands

Today I am bridging between two lands—just home to Ashland following almost 2 weeks in Port Orford…we named our resident hummingbird, Rosemary, “Rosie” for short—she

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Bear Death

We are murderers again. This time we murdered her but we didn’t mean to. We’d like that “innocence” to change what is, but it does

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Grieving the Waters.

Our stunning view of an empty lake, a daily reminder of the drought. Our sacred neighborhood swimming hole evaporating right before our eyes as the abundant creek that has fed it for all these years has dried up. On a recent trip to Northern California, the dry river beds, severe algae blooms, a few rivers just not making it to the sea and a highway falling into the sea that hellbent humans keep repairing and girding up… Yesterday, kayaking the Klamath river for the 1st time in 10 years and seeing and feeling the toxic froth and foam, the shallow places, the reduction in wildlife was almost too much to bear, almost…

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Colorful field of flowers with red poppies and daisies among other grasses and flowers with a wooden structure in the background.

Being with is a potent form of love; simple, not easy.

When so much is UP for revision– between action and non-action there is another way: being with. Being with is a potent form of love; simple, not easy.
Necessary yet not required.

To all of you lovers of life, hopers for a future, activists stopped in your tracks by overwhelm, I say this…

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