Posts

Lightweight Jacket

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After three months I see you again, old friend, hanging around. I get you off the hook and we go out together, for drinks, dinner, a walk to the store in twilight’s new warmth. You’ve always been steady, by my side in rain or shine; you’ve got my back. As the season’s turn and our love for each other wans and waxes, I hope I never lose you.  

Catching Up

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I think I’ve shared here at the blog that 2023 was a very successful year as far as publication of various pieces: both micro, blended, and the short story. Thus, I began 2024 knowing I needed to produce. I felt so much pressure that it stymied me. It seemed I only had time for the blog entries. I was keeping up with three posts a week—just. But ongoing submissions and writing down new ideas was taking a hit. Not to mention actually beginning a project that would take multiple sittings. I get very anxious leaving things undone. For one month I’ve had loose ends as I’ve strived to complete one short story. In the past month I’ve had exactly 3 days off—and even then off is relative. One was unexpected as I showed up to work early voting at the municipal center and they said they didn’t need me, and the other two days I still helped with child care as I took Jack to the library and playdate with my friend Sepi. I have even been cutting down the amount of time for exercise, runs

Yesterday I rode home without a coat

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Early March, unbelievable. We were sitting outside after a run in shorts enjoying the weather before I quickly changed to ride my bike to work. I didn’t need a coat, but took one just in case after work I’d need one. Thus, I forgot to take my safety vest. I left for work at 11 a.m. wearing a flannel over my work t-shirt and also wearing sunglasses. It truly felt like spring. No overpants. No boots. Is this even right? I wondered. Never fear—today when I woke up it felt heavy inside my Tiny House. Especially dark outside the windows. I opened my French doors just as the first drops were beginning to fall from the sky. At the same moment my daughter and grandson were watching from their sliding glass door. An audience for a cacophonic symphony.           The back and forth rhythm of spring.  

Flashback to spring 2022

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I’ve learned a new word: vernal ponds. Here in Michigan in the spring I ride my bike past snow-laden fields that slowly give themselves over to marshes. In the woods the trees are submerged into run-off pools. From Wikipedia: Vernal pools, also called vernal ponds or ephemeral pools, are seasonal pools of water that provide habitat for distinctive plants and animals. They are considered to be a distinctive type of wetland usually devoid of fish, and thus allow the safe development of natal amphibian and insect species unable to withstand competition or predation by fish. Certain tropical fish lineages (such as killifishes) have however adapted to this habitat specifically. This description almost makes them sound magical—ephemeral, but they are temporary and are slowly, even now, fading. Everyday there is more field than pond. And, on the really nice days I can hear the boisterous bull frogs, the chirpy peepers, and all the other members of the vernal pond orchestra camouflaged in the

Growing Sunlight

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My job at the bike shop involves an array of hours. Some days are 9 – 5, some 11 – 7, some, lie today, 10 – 6. In deep dark winter after the time change, when leaving after close, I’ll have to turn on all lights and my blinking helmet while riding home. As we get close to spring equinox I’m having to less and less. The sun currently is setting around 6:30. Seven pm close it definitely is dark, but 6 and 5 I can now ride home in light—sometimes taking a detour through the woods and onto a board plank bridge that straddles a marsh. I am more likely to stop at Aldis before coming home for few items as it also isn’t so cold as to freeze my TP before arriving in my driveway. The whole idea of growing light at both ends of the day is lending me a better attitude. Two days ago it was 18 degrees as I rode to work wearing my lobster gloves reserved for the coldest days. I was not ready to head back to those after a day before of 70 degree temperatures. But, it is spring. Or at least we’re get