Musings . . .

on the passing scene

A COVID-SOLSTICE MESSAGE, 2020

Here at the farm, we’re still cleaning up the slash from two trees taken down before we began construction - logs and weathering bark and no small amount of rotting debris. Broken concrete and rusty nails get piled by the road for the dump, but all the organic stuff...

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Cleaning Up The Mess

Waking up this morning to the election news, I feel like a mountain climber who has dragged herself to what she thought was the mountaintop, only to discover she had just reached a pile of rocks along the way. There is still a long trek before the true summit, but...

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Getting Real

for Leah Atwood The way you prepare a sheep for slaughter is to praise her, kiss her pointy face and tell her how grateful you have been to know her, weep while she eats the treat of oats you’ve offered her and then lead her to the pasture where the stun gun awaits....

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Decoding Donald

When I was in my mid-teens and living in Queens, New York, there were two Donalds around, one I knew and the other I didn’t. Donald McKayle was my modern dance teacher and the other Donald was a kid who lived in our neighborhood and went to the same High School as my...

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Soft Eyes

for Paul Andrews Over the years, all my writing has been focused on intuitive ways of knowing the world and I use poetic diction and stories to get my point across rather than rational facts. I figure it’s through subtlety – ‘feeling’ the way more than ‘thinking’...

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Covid Quarantine

I am sometimes taken to task for sending out these ‘positive’ messages while there is so much evil happening in the world.  “Don’t you see what’s going on?” they demand. Of course I see it - that’s why I try to remind myself, and us, of the opposite. This seems...

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Changing the Pattern

Moving house and home after so many years has been a big deal made even bigger by ‘shelter in place’ rules, since being able to do it with family and friends had to be scrapped. The work was mine to do alone, which meant clearing a 10-room house down to what could fit...

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Koan

This morning I tried to figure out how to bring Russ’ alabaster sculpture, which has been on extended loan to us for the past 10 years, back to his house around the corner. But it’s very heavy - no way either Russ or I could carry it there. Maybe I can ask...

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Moving On In Place

In an uncanny twist of fate I find myself in transition, packing up house and home of fifty years to move onto a farm community, just when the rest of the world is also in transition, this virus having put all of us in Stop mode for the time being. We do not know what...

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Gobsmacked

The other night I had a nightmare of being covered with oily beetles in clumps all over my body. I could feel them crawl down my legs and up my chest, their pointy feet prickling my skin and their hard bodies clicking as they rubbed against one another. I woke up...

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Photo of Carolyn North by Susan Wilson

Carolyn North

Photo: Susan Wilson