Juliana Spahr ^ By the end of the year, I was used to things I hadn’t seen before, like a series of street brawls between fa and antifa that often absurdly tumbled into the Berkeley all organic full-of-strollers farmer’s market. Used to hearing about friends’ emails caught up in various FOIAs. Used to the social media posts about how someone somewhere was getting Read more about excerpts from “Will There Be Singing”[…]
I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived. I did not wish to live what was not life, living Read more about Thoreau – On Walden[…]
Coloured fishing vessels are often moored in the tiny harbour of Hvammstangi, a town that sits in the eastern shore of the Miðfjörður. The name is derived from ‘hvammur’, which means a green space in a mountain and is now home to Einar, a poet and teacher in Icelandic and literature. He moved to this Read more about Island songs – Ólafur Arnalds[…]
Cool autumn air scattering crispy brown leaves Then sweeping them into piles Which soften the fall of shiny brown conkers Giant seed balls still Bearing a vernix coating. birthed from spiky shells with the softest of liningS. Then onto the beach blown along by the chill east wind. The Sun still clinging onto its last Read more about Wind, leaves, conkers, sand and shells.[…]
First sighting of morning dew and Birdsong has returned
Reflections in the window of the bare tree. shocks me. Autumn is really just around the corner. Always a source of joy for me. but this year I have embraced the heat far more, I have really sought it out, welcomed it on my skin taken it inside me,Now it wanes. But I love the Read more about Sunday Sadness[…]
Furry mint flowers mint me at the doorThe Hydrangea and sunflowers are finishing. But there’s a bud on the new anemone. Deepest pink penstemon trumpets flank the steps. There’s a downpour of rain. Which leaves water gurgling long after in the drain and raindrops lined up across the top of each pane of glassthrough which Read more about Home[…]
White Shells crunching underfoot. The shellfish smells of the estuary. cockles and clams. a solitary egret. then a flock of swans landingHoney from the hive. riverside refreshment. Back to the hospital. along the boulevard of trees. leaves turning to autumn shades. Not a few already starting to gather at their feet.
Seed set. Night returns. Mary Magdalene is honoured. The seed sistas dress as Amanita muscariaPsychedelic fish swim byHere with the sturgeon on the Lammas full moon. back in my hometown with a toolkitrediscovering the old with new eyes. Walkingfinding the beauty where I had previously seen none. AnnaJoy says remember. you are made of magic. Read more about Dark moon[…]
dreams. Bronze Slow worm. hop flowers foxWood pigeon calling, calling me home Unpaved road. hidden reserveblue house farm. owl cam. sheep camouflaged ingolden fields. red sail passing. guiding us on. steps rising. onto the sea wall. Soft breeze cooling. flap of wings so close. skimming the surface of the dry yellow grasssmell of the seaweed Read more about Crouch Estuary[…]