POWER PLACES IN MY LIFE

  

 September Morning on the East Inlet 

 

                We came here 40 years ago, a northern refuge in our lives.  At that time and in years to come, 

                    we explored the Great Northern Woods by truck, car, canoe, kayak, foot.  We watched moose 

                    feeding throughout the shallows.  Loons -- single males, families, mother and chicks -- swam and

                    dived near us.  Their cries shadowed our days and nights.  

 

                        Early mornings filled with birdsong and later in the day frogs, insects, raptors and eagles.

                    All manner of ducks and Canada geese squawked and fed on the inlet.  Young ducklings learned

                    to jump and nab the top seeds of aquatic grasses.

 

                            It was here we saw our first bull moose -- an old and regal survivor.  He stood in the middle

                    of the inlet and submerged his entire body to escape the flies and feed on water plants.  When

                    he lifted his mighty head, water streamed from his huge rack and green grasses hung

                    from his antlers.  

 

                             Year by year we returned to this natural wilderness.  The waters and land became part

                    of protected territory, although this protection has eroded over the years, like so many things

                    in life. Yet we still find a peace and a glimpse of what this world could be long into the future.

 

                            We spread my father's ashes here because he too revered its wildness.  We've met so

                    many like-minded people, stayed in cabins and tents, hiked in rain, provided a feast for midges,

                    black flies and mosquitoes.  We look beyond the modern mindset that requires hot tubs and all-

                    terrain vehicles, multi-million dollar houses and holdings and a creeping blindness to the true value

                    of wild places.

 

                           But here we are wrapped in the stillness and cool air of an autumn morning.  I settle, recharge

                    and later, return to the fray with a clear vision of what is good and worthy and powerful. 

A SUMMER WRITERS RETREAT

 

  

 

 

 

 

 

         Six women with writers' notebooks, prompts, ideas, hopes and goals 

come together to write.

And write they do, as well as laugh, sigh, cry.

We cook and walk the quiet road.

We read and write and share our words,

in a place of natural beauty, safety and  

the best of camaraderie. 

Until next year when women once again

arrive with notebooks,

words, ideas and

dreams. 

    🙏     

       

SURVIVAL IN A TIME OF CHAOS AND FEAR

 This lovely drawing came from FaceBook, still a place where I find "my people".  We stand out from the hatred and cowardice and utter contempt for life that sweeps my country and clogs up my news.

I never, never expected to live in a time where so many injustices are done while the rest cower or ignore the growing threats of fascism and loss of our rights.  

Leaders of good will are shouted down, or worse.  Millions of people show up in the streets to protest our current government of bullies and fools, yet the news reports "hundreds" or let the story of what the People see happening wither.  Besides there will be more cruelty and revenge to fill their papers and stoke the fears.  

  Concord, New Hampshire

"HANDS OFF"

April 25, 2025 

LEARN FROM THOSE WHO HAVE COME BEFORE US

RESIST.  RESPOND.  PERSIST.

NATURE OFFERS ME SOLACE

 

Our world today was been co-opted by hooligans, billionaires and tricksters.  There is chaos in our government, our towns, cities, Congress and all manner of once reasonable and legal infrastructure protected by the United States Constitution.

 I wonder how long it will take before People say, No More! and impeach this false president and his ultra-rich toadies.  

How many ordinary folk will die from loss of work, health care and institutions set up as the "safety net".  How many people will be illegally deported or imprisoned...

Donald Trump has been President for a mere two and a half weeks and he has already created a cabinet of his choosing -- those who have vowed to dismember what they now head.  Environmental protection. Department of Justice.  Federal Bureau of Investigation.  Soon to be:  Education, Health and Human Services...

We are watching our democracy being dismantled.  The lawsuits are flying in, but it's almost impossible to match the time frame.  He and his minions need to be removed NOW!  

 But his Republican Party is so enmeshed in the turmoil, they vote to support his tyranny.

I write.  I speak out.  I sign petitions and call my legislators.  I march.  I stand up to bullies when faced with them.  I will not bend my knee to this takeover.

Yet, I feel as if I'm fighting mist.  Spitting into the wind.  

So to salvage my soul and principles, I go back to "my" basics.  That's the natural world, kindness and compassion, and the lifestyle that embraces nonviolence and peace. 

PEACE WITH JUSTICE

PEACE WITH EQUITY

PEACE WITH INCLUSION

PEACE WITH DIVERSITY

PEACE DEDICATED TO ALL LIVING CREATURES

PEACE WITH OUR PERCEIVED ENEMIES

 And I wonder if our world can survive this attack and the cruelty unleashed.  I would hope.

NOVEMBER

 

 In November

 

Sunlight travels far,

horizontal through the wood.

Warms lichens, felled trees,

the stone wall where I now sit

welcoming my neighbor.

 

 

 

FROM THE BATTLEFIELDS - OLD. NEW. NOW.

Combat Nurses Tribute at the Vietnam War Memorial

 

       

From the Battlefields

 

 She carries water to the battle ground,
        with willow bark and comfrey leaves.
        Calls the stretcher bearers and their kin,
            “One’s alive!  Bring him in.”

        She holds their hands, hears their prayers,
        writes letters to their distant homes.  All
        begin:  “Hello, Mother.  Hello, Dad.
             Don’t be sad.  I’ll be back by Spring.”

        At night she stitches socks and shrouds,
        rolls long white cotton strips.  Checks
        her stores for whiskey drams and laudanum
            to ease what pain she can.

        She too dreams of going home to quiet
        and to green.  To fields and trees untouched
        by war, where brooks run clear and clean.
            She writes her letters with faint hope:
             “I’ll see you in the Spring.”

  ~

 

I hope to add my voice to those who chronicle and challenge us to consider what war truly means — now and into the future. I hope my readers sense the timelessness, universal sorrow and regret that shapes our human experience through the intimacy of one unknown woman’s day.  

 

Her day could be anywhere and anytime, any place throughout the ages:  The trenches of France in 1917.  American Civil War battle grounds like Gettysburg or a country lane in Maryland.  Ireland.  India 1947.  Any country fighting off colonial powers.

In reality, our world history is one of continual, constant war.