Tag Archives: Blue

before the storm / after the storm

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some part of a day I had rued

Blue and I look up from our walk along the ridge to see vultures hanging over us, sixteen of them rising in circles on a thermal. As serenely as birds rising on a thermal they circle over us. One breaks … Continue reading

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Joy

Listening to Nicolas Simion’s jazz in Cologne, I felt an unexpectedly rush of joy. Yesterday, walking with Blue through meadows thick with the yellow flowers of arrowleaf balsamroot, I plucked a couple of juicy three-toothed leaves of sage, pressed them … Continue reading

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The Pleasures of a Snowy Morning in Woodland Hills

 

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