Autumn Newsletter: Apprenticing with Slowness

It is deep Autumn in the Pacific Northwest. My intention was to write this newsletter soon after the equinox passed, but enamored with cooler and shorting days, Leaves riotous shift in color schemes, Rain’s thunderous return and my own deepening “apprenticeship with slowness,” one week fell into another and, well, here we are.

My body exhaled when Summer finally left the scene (though there was a pale pink Rose in the neighborhood that was still offering spicy, peppery scents until it was cut back to my astonishment just a few days ago. After all, I wasn’t done with my daily “sniffs.”) Summer was difficult for me. I wrote about my malaise on Substack: “merging with the deepening of autumn.” These days Sun skims morosely along the Tree line as if annoyed at not being the star of the show. On cloudless days, Sun glares through windshields and shows all the dirty streaks on kitchen windows, a reminder of its brilliance. And I appreciate its gentle warming of my abode. No need to turn on the heat. We call a truce.

Summer Newsletter: Navigating Summer with Grief

In my neighborhood we are now fully into the rhythm of Summer. Those frenetic mating Bird songs of Spring that precede Sun’s early risings have eased into parental lessons. They tend toward later starts and a softer urgency. There is so much as a parent to be exampled on top of the instinctual nature hatched in the chicks! And as mid-July crests, I imagine those who hatch two families each Summer have already fledged brood number one and are well on the way to parenting number two.

Spring Newsletter: Noticing What Is Emerging

Magnolias announced Spring a hare’s breath before Japanese and other flowering Cherries in the Pacific NW. Magnolias, holding tight to their magic in fuzzy bud scale-tipped twigs waited until the perfect moment. It was an overnight awakening after a spat of short-sleeved weather that splayed the white-bright petals out like a child’s rendition of a tissue-paper star. A sweet aroma enticed me to breathe deep. Cherries, not to be outdone, have erupted like small firework displays on their branches. Pompoms clustered like small fists ready to punch wonder into my Winter addled brain.