Journal

Practicing Resurrection

*This is an excerpt from Woodland Manitou: To Be on Earth, available wherever books are sold. June always holds a sense of emptiness for me – not in a negative way, just in a way that reminds me that for a really long time, “working at camp” and everything that comes along with what that means … Continue reading Practicing Resurrection

Glittering Mica

Yesterday evening it was my spouse’s turn to put our child to bed, so I snuck down to the lake and hauled our huge, green Old Town canoe over to the dock, determined to get a little time on the water after a long day of computer-based activities and schlepping around town.  It’s not an … Continue reading Glittering Mica

Snake Bucket

It was the stuff of childhood lore, really, those few years when garter snakes declared the low area just behind the house their territory.  We’d lead unsuspecting friends over to the barrel with the mesh lid on it and they’d run away shrieking at the sight of that day’s capture writhing up the sides, looking … Continue reading Snake Bucket

Broken Hallelujah

If you’ve been following along here or on social media, you’ve likely noticed that poems have been the theme as of late, especially April.  Here in Minnesota, it was a cold spring, and I was at what would be the close of a very long struggle with persistent illness – not the sort of illness … Continue reading Broken Hallelujah

Three Broken Hallelujahs

The first came when you realized life had to be lived from attention, not distraction because that meant slowing down enough to notice the way the soil smells after the rain. The second came when you noticed the delicate beauty of a fern uncurling the first spring after the wildfire burned your beloved forest to the ground. The third came when you witnessed that convict in orange – the … Continue reading Three Broken Hallelujahs

Freedom

We put on mud boots and walk down to the lake where the sun is encouraging the spring runoff to go.     So we go, too, and I forget the iphone.   You poke at the ice, intent on making a clear path for the water to run, wholly absorbed in your task.   … Continue reading Freedom