Articles by Colleen

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Chickadee

We learned to be patient observers like the owl. We learned cleverness from the crow, and courage from the jay, who will attack an owl ten times its size to drive it off its territory. But above all of them ranked the chickadee because of its indomitable spirit.

Tom Brown, Jr.

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Known

I too have known loneliness.

I too have known what it is to feel misunderstood,

rejected, and not at all

beautiful.

Oh, mother earth,

your comfort is great.

Your arms never withhold.

It has saved my life to know this.

Your rivers flowing, your roses,

opening in the morning.

Oh, motions of tenderness!

Mary Oliver

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Dead End

Time does not give one much leeway: it thrusts us forward from behind, blows us through the narrow tunnel of the present into the future. But space is broad, teeming with possibilities, positions, intersections, passages, detours, U-turns, dead-ends, one-way streets. Too many possibilities, indeed.

Susan Sontag

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Oh, the variety of plants in full flower now, this almost fall final hurrah! Though I only captured one feasting bee, the garden is positively alive with them, and birds, zooming hummingbird and not so plain of every other local variety, including a Cooper’s Hawk who visits nearly on the daily, plus butterflies and regular ole flies. A garden cornucopia.

Juniper digger dog caught in the act. She has two holes she digs with abandon and our permission, this one included, and one she tries on the sly and for which is regularly scolded. A dog’s life.

Labor Day Weekend Ritual:

Rise alongside the sun, dress and wash-up quick, lace shoes, harness dog, top head with straw hat. Walk, grateful for the cool before the heat. Ascend on mud soft ground to the pinnacle of the shortest double hill and wait in the low wind. Eyes south to witness the rise of balloon after balloon to crowd the sky. Our aging eyes wonder at the non-standard shapes: pig in coveralls, fish, unicorn, frog, smiling blue horned creature, Darth Vader, Yoda!! Quiet save our sighs and a single engine splitting the sky above.

Then the descent, peppered with flowers and our commentary on this small luxury. Nothing and everything before eight a.m.

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