April 23, 2020, Shakespeare’s Approximate Birthday

The woodpeckers are doing their thing, and
I am reminded that it’s not all about finding the bugs.

This one’s in a beech and that one’s in a maple,

But that bird right there found a hollow tree sticking up out of the beaver pond and his message is carrying for hundreds and hundreds of yards!

He has totally won social media for this morning.

April 21, 2020

The days must not blend,
they must each one be precious and meaningful,
not a handful of diamonds, but a handful of sand with flecks and greys and browns and those little black bits.

Each unique, ancient, weighty.

I am reminded to celebrate days as one celebrates children,
each one unique,
each with a different message,
a different lesson,

Both recalling the ancestors,
and wholly new.

April 18, 2020

I snapped last night and raised my voice at the dog.
But then I raised my voice to my dear one who tried to help me yell at the dog – no, I get to yell at the dog, you do not get to rescue me or show me I’m doing it wrong or whatever you’re doing.

This is my yell, don’t you dare steal my spotlight.

It had been a perfect storm of things niggling, and my refined, advanced, self-enlightened strategy was to yell. Ah, well.

Begin again.

April 11, 2020

To get through this and survive is a good goal,
But to get through this with our family closer than ever is what the gods call us to do.

There’s a sign on the stairwell so that I see it every morning as I head out into the day:


I arranged it by number of letters, but I think that worked out pretty darned well, foundation-and-pinnacle-wise.

April 9th, 2020

Slow and steady.
Now is when we use the stubbornness – which has been railed against in the past –

Now is when we use the stubbornness to keep the Earth spinning:
to waken, rise, walk, dress to our shoes and earrings,

To walk, to write, to reach out,
To go to work

and give my very best to the people who depend on me.