I’ve taken myself to the beach for the first time in a long while: craving the sea. It does not disappoint, doing the same thing it always does. Keeping its promises. Today, holding its temper: a cheerful churn at the…
Pepper and Poems
109 Articles
109
Seen at the North Carolina Botanical Garden, and Recently Spring ran wild loose ribbons in her hair a riot of pink and purple and red and yellow and blue. One day, she knew, she’d leap into the strong green arms…
Read this Mary Oliver poem at your own risk, friends. I had forgotten that Oliver can be so gruesome as she pins down the butterfly… The Rabbit Scatterghost, it can’t float away. And the rain, everybody’s brother, won’t help. And…
On a Snow-Kissed Day, A Question Why do we feed the birds? Tell me, friend, and maybe then I’ll know what I need to know. The Sherman brothers – Richard and Robert – wrote “Feed the Birds” for the 1964…
Sometimes even Mary Oliver has to get a little firm. The Poet With His Face in His Hands You want to cry aloud for your mistakes. But to tell the truth the world doesn’t need any more of that sound….
Here’s something to make time for on a cold Sunday morning in late fall, battening down the hatches for winter… Postscript by Seamus Heaney And some time make the time to drive out west Into County Clare, along the Flagg…
Found on the blacktop this week: beauty, chaos, relationship. Togetherness and pulling apart, coziness, grief, brokenness, comfort, joyful gatherings, estrangement, dancing. Seeking. The wind blows and it all changes. What did you see on your blacktop? On mine – it…
A boxwood blooms in my yard this November. Delicate white flowers rise out of its green depths. What wonder is this? On closer examination, it appears that a vine has grown up among the holes in the damaged boxwood. I…
I had the chance to travel in Ireland not long ago with one of my young adult daughters and felt both the joy of the moment and the passing of the moment so acutely. Nothing good comes of holding on…