THE SUMMER I MISSED THE WILDFLOWERS

Abuse is sometimes cunning,like a mischievous fox whoby morning leaves you wondering just where it isyou left your right shoe.Or glove. Or the logical side of your brain. Abuse is also quiet,like the great Yukon grizzly whosleeps away the coldest months,tucked somewhere no one would suspect butusually,far too close for comfort. If only we knew. … More THE SUMMER I MISSED THE WILDFLOWERS

It Makes Sense Here

It makes sense here. The waters are high from the precipitous summer; the rocks and pebbles shine brighter, constantly polished beneath the surface. Clear as far as one can see and still as my own heart becomes when this Autumn morning sun gently bathes my sorrowful face. But it is no day for troubling oneself … More It Makes Sense Here

Old Pines

On the south facing slope dry, warm dust of clay cliffs.Fuzzy crocuses.Some sleepy, some stretchinghigh, to the sun lit sky.Blades of grass,pushing green,growing.Bright leaves, slowly unfolding like arms, like art,swirling vein patterns,demanding nothing, but gaining all of myattention. Walk slow,through these forests.Stop, often.Bend to touch.Feel the moss, the lichens,No longer brittle but, still firm, still … More Old Pines

“What Are You Going to do in Whitehorse?!”

Within 40 days I had thought, packed and moved to Whitehorse, YT from Gravenhurst, ON. It took 6 days, and approximately 600 mental meltdowns. No biggie, hey? I didn’t recognize how settled into Muskoka I was, until driving 5,300 km’s across Canada. 9 years ago, I’d take a backpack on a whim and leave, intending … More “What Are You Going to do in Whitehorse?!”