One Post, All Cliche’s


The past couple of weeks have been gnarly.


It’s been hard to see the forest for the trees.


I’ve been spinning my wheels,


A mere shadow, blown way out of proportion.

Thanksgiving came and went.  I kept reading other blogger’s posts about what they were thankful for and didn’t want to do the same thing.  Plus, I was having technical issues that my dear friend Jason Miers graciously supported me through (this piece will be another test) and I felt only capable of going through the motions of thankfulness.  But I was not really really feeling it.  And then I remembered (once again) that gratitude is what makes the difference between a happy and an unhappy life.   My list of blessings is long and full of sweet cliché’s.  However, I will name one gratitude way out loud:  I am really thankful for my readers as I muddle through these musings in Wild nature, trying to capture and connect through what it means to be a human being.  I sincerely thank you all.

The Long Shadows

There is a sweet sadness at this time of year,


Fractured signs of it everywhere.


Illustrating that fall gets woven from threads of late summer,


A time of covered legs and long shadows,


A footprint of summer passing by.


Cooler nights, shorter days, feathery gold and crisp blue,


Ominous big bird skies.

We, the creatures, prepare to hunker down.  But first, like most New Yorker’s, I’m very busy in the Fall, like going back to school with great enthusiasm, goals of many to be accomplished.                                                                          As we wind toward the reality of darkness and the cold, I gravitate to the shelter of lovers of life, men and women for all seasons, good books in front of fireplaces, delicious theater, heavier food and cashmere clothing, the tools that say to Old Man Winter, ‘Bring it on, it’s all good to me.  I’m just grateful to be here.’