ESSAYS
Excerpts
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From West Shed
I listen at my desk.
Wild branches beat on my window Their oak and ash cantatas Their sun leafy waltzes. Wind. Symphony of my head come to me here Come quickly and fill my fingers with Music on the silver keys. Was it The wind in the trees outside Or did you say something? |
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From Thoughts in the Woods
In the dark deciduous woods of an Appalachian summer I am wrapped around with trees and their tapestries of green leaves. The air is completely still, and leaves fall noiselessly onto the bed of soft brown litter.
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Bootettix grasshopper on creosote bush
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From Creosote
All those past times of grasshopper study rush before my eyes when I touch the plant, and I relive the sense of sweaty heat, the potent plant smell, and the calm of togetherness. I don’t remember our conversations. I remember the silences, the communication that floats noiselessly from one person to another, the sudden flashes of realization that we shared, and the collective joy of discovery.
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From Pond
The new trail camera photo showed the back view of a hog-nosed skunk on the black, icy pond, its tall, airy tail hiding the rest of its body, the round patch of skin of its anus highlighted in the flash. "A great shot of his asshole," Sam said. I smiled, knowing that the placid picture hid the fact that the skunk would have been slipping on the ice.
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