Category: Nature


Contemplating Sunlight

  I am a vagabond, going about in a vagabond way from the fly-away ponytail to the scaly feet which callous and shiver away in the grassy bed I’ve taken for my own purpose. You won’t hear me complain, oh no, baby, I am not the bloodless breed you see wagging along in the streets with stiff collars growing stiffer in the sparkling sunlight … Read More Contemplating Sunlight


Friday Adventures

Today I am going on an adventure. An endeavor of sorts. It is the last day of teaching both my senior and sophomore English units, the last day before Spring break, the last day before I am free to go sweat, sing, and not speak to anyone for seven days. I will pack a backpack. Pack an avocado. A hammock. Franz Kafta’s The Trial. … Read More Friday Adventures


Time is a Castle

Time is a castle and we spend our lives going from room to room, exploring. Or not exploring, really, as is sometimes the case. Seasons are spent in the dining room, entertaining guests and thinking about our next meal. Season of time are spent isolating ourselves within the dungeons, believing this is our lot in life before we’ve tried to open the unlocked door. … Read More Time is a Castle

Let’s Be Soldiers

Perhaps Sunday will be a day of poetry. It certainly is a fine day to curl up in the aesthetic recesses of one’s own mind, jittery from intake of coffee and cozy from an outfit made of sweaters.   Who might I be, If we were playing soldiers? Well, let me tell you; I’d be the one with rosy cheeks, An affinity for bubblegum … Read More Let’s Be Soldiers


Feeding The Soul: Adventures in Arkansas

“Should we stay in the cave or should we find a new spot for tonight?” Thus launched Saturday’s conversation between my dear beloved pal Lindsey and I as we sat cross-legged in our wonderful soft-earthed cave floor sipping Stanley french-press coffee from blue tin mugs. The Arkansan air was timid and peaceful, stooping down to caress the little creek which contained Buffalo River nestled … Read More Feeding The Soul: Adventures in Arkansas


Running in the Grass

My mind is a cage; the rhythm of my feet against the trail the key. I plant a sole, I turn the key a little further. A little harder. A little closer. See that hill? That looming hill? That’s two turns. That deep rivet in the grass from the rains of last season? The misplaced rock? The balancing branch? Two more turns. Here progress … Read More Running in the Grass


When Hammock Met Thunderstorm

There is nothing quite as serene as being slung between two trees on a bed of nylon woven cloth; the gentle breeze providing a cushioned sway to the beat of the Universe pulse. It is as if all forest dwellers sign a pact with my intelligent hammock to stay away, simply to observe and not to eat. There has never been a time when … Read More When Hammock Met Thunderstorm


Happy 100! Letter from the Editor and Most Memorable Posts

Dear Squadron, Hey there. You beautiful, auspiciously good-willed bellwether of a callipygian nature. You, my formidable invisible audience, have changed me over the past year and ten months. I don’t usually write for you specifically, but your very arcane presence has given me opportunities to practice authenticity, courage, vulnerability, and passion. This site doesn’t generate that many hits, I am fully aware and fine … Read More Happy 100! Letter from the Editor and Most Memorable Posts


An Adventure Featuring Hammocks And Old Austrian Gents

I love rain. Its ability to generate an instantaneously cozier environment, the aesthetic of sitting up against a mighty window, a mug of creamy steaming coffee between two slightly chilled hands, sitting cross legged, shoeless; the patter of the rain against the glass a perfect acoustic companion to the book you have sitting on your lap.  It’s pleasant to be inside and dry when … Read More An Adventure Featuring Hammocks And Old Austrian Gents


From Such Great Heights

I gently rock back and forth to the tune of the slurping river Mur as it swishes its way amongst the rocks and the ducks beside me. My hammock, slung between two perfectly distanced trees, is of a breathable material; the caressing wind nudging into the pores of the fabric and hugging my naked wiggling toes in blissful circulation. From my 270-degree window I … Read More From Such Great Heights