Sunday Morning Ride on the Peshtigo River Trail
February 23, 2020
Chickadees, snowshine, tourmaline skies; Blue jays, jack pine, solitude mine.
Category: Winter
In Which Woolly Mammoths Save the World, Starting with Siberia, Because Permafrost is Melt and Carbon is Release
February 5, 2020
When They Finally Wake in April
April 18, 2019
‘Round the ankles of the birches autumn water gathered, murky – winter held it down til frozen cradled gently in the hollows – skirts of ice surround the low limbs stopped mid-fling by frigid wind embroidered not in poodle, plaid, suspended there, upended, glad – wee peeping frogs, asleep, adorn a petticoat of moss and … More When They Finally Wake in April
Centrifugal Force
March 10, 2019
In the beginning the boys and their sleds and half-size snowboards would pile in on a snow day, headed for the Suamico Elementary School hill; They were puppies, interchangeable, laughing, careening down the hill over and over – later they’d play Minecraft, fighting zombies in the dark, building houses close together for protection – in a … More Centrifugal Force
Three Fields along Highway 42
February 4, 2019
i. The broad face of the February field is tilted to the falling snow – broken cornstalk stubble waiting for the razored plow. ii. The snow, the field, the fog rolling in waves off of the lake, a blank page. The split rail fence, the bare trees, the broken barns, black parentheses. iii. Beyond the … More Three Fields along Highway 42
Haiku 19
November 19, 2018
Buttery light spread/ on this white November wall/ winter’s knife is slow.
22 Years Later
February 25, 2018
I. On the way up to the lake house, the back of the vehicle jammed with things of this earth: snacks, casseroles, a snowboard, three pairs of snow pants, a snow shovel for the ice rink, skates, sleeping bags, water, wine – and after passing barn upon barn, acre upon acre of crumbling stone and … More 22 Years Later
Night on Shakey Lakes, -17°F
January 28, 2018
Tonight we sleep above the ice, (cocooned like mousies in sleeping bags) under an impossible number of January stars, (brilliant like only winter stars can be, Orion hunting alone) over the lake, and the fish in the lake, (swimming slowly in the iced water capped by sixteen inches of ice) in this bitter cold, (as … More Night on Shakey Lakes, -17°F
Holding Fire
December 10, 2017
That night it was snowing like crazy but we left the kitchen in disarray to pick her up and we drove through half-deserted white billowed streets to see the pretty lights at the botanical gardens I walked ahead so you could stroll alone with her through the winter night lit by imagined dragons, undersea creatures, … More Holding Fire
Winter Reveals
December 10, 2017
Winter reveals all the broken things you don’t see in the modest months, the tree snapped in half, a frayed thing, touching its forehead to the cold ground – cracked buckets and oblong strips of tires, outbuildings leaning perilously to one side as though they’ve had too many beers when really all they’ve had is … More Winter Reveals
Halfway North 