Category: Nature

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Frequently Wrong, Never in Doubt: Plans for the Future

  Helene and Andrew, who I worked for as a chef at Il Forno, offered their daughter’s spare mattress for my sleeping purposes for the time between the end of my au pair contract, on the 21st of December, and when my parents would rock into the Auckland airport on January 3rd. Thus I spent my Christmas in a kiwi fashion, with barbecued pizzas, … Read More Frequently Wrong, Never in Doubt: Plans for the Future

Gazing at the Ocean

  The vastness gets me, sometimes; to see all this space I cannot measure, cannot obtain—and then to see my human kin, just as vast, measureless, objective in such a state, a condition as this. All of them new to the act of human being, and yet vastly more prepared than I.

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The Creek and the Tree and Us, Sitting

  Let’s just sit here for a minute, here, on this log, next to the creek which flows strong and clear. I have to show you this tree; a tree from the sun, from the soul on its own, a tree on whose long furry branch dangles wise chin hairs and me— swinging in my hammock safe and soundless the wind tilted my chin … Read More The Creek and the Tree and Us, Sitting

How I Get My News

  I never regret not reading the news. The front page headlines written by an aware individual who keeps delight on the simmer at having found the story of the missing child-rape case first. The television stations, projecting visions of chaos injecting emotion to hype it all up get you going, get the fires lit, get the smoke signals out honey, we’re not going … Read More How I Get My News

Teacher

  Fingers of sea uncurl against rocky black shores inhaling now exhale— teaching me how, guiding me in the art form of breathing.

Moment of Sentience

  Naked toes nestle into the folds of my hammock, which swings, easy, like the gentle head nod that accompanies soulful conversation—the air massages the oak leaves above, and the four of us are in holy existence; synchronized we inhale and loosen. How sublime does it feel to be aware of all this. And to wonder:

Snug Wild

  Atomic algorithms do the soul not a lick of civility— these buzzy bites aren’t earmarked for matrimony to my holy pivot. Nah, it is wilderness which soothes the ruffled soul—

Adding What I Find

  When I signed up for this, I was told it was my soul on the line; that to do nothing was as good as having nothing to do: and that was unfathomable.

Dissonance

  Warm summer eases against my skin, a kitten, pawing for affection, pawing for attention—the grass beside me is envelope haven and the wind, which raises my hair in caress, is a friend, it sings, only ever friend. But I find myself resolute: tight-lipped arms-crossed brow-fixed sat, shiftless, in the midst of murk determined, sort of, to sift through the mist but not sure … Read More Dissonance

The Vagabond Muse

  This is what I talk about when I talk about the wandering vagabond muse: truly truly the difference between “getting” and going that of “seeming” and being that between “rare” and raw. The wanderer, alit with the muse of equitable bliss rarely gets anywhere. Instead opts for the slow methodical languid locomotion of going. Going where? Going here. Perchance there. Going anywhere, and … Read More The Vagabond Muse

Under a Tree (in the Rain)

  If you could see, right now, this piece of notebook paper upon which I write, you would know practically the whole story. The ink smudge bullet holes would be enough and you, in your intelligence, wouldn’t need the sight of my speckling jeans to know that, now: it’s raining.

We, Like Water

  We, like water, like water under a cloud sky, so evenly lit, illuminate— our flow, our companionship immeasurable pleasing intersections we just as soon leave but recall.