On a rare sunny April afternoon, I sit on a round stone near Vic’s cairn and watch the nearby stream. The forest floor is brown with last fall’s leaves. I notice a flash of orange. A butterfly rests on a leaf in the middle of the path, opening and closing its wings while I fumble for my camera. It has deep curving indentations on the outer wings with a wingspan of two inches, about half the size of a Monarch but, from a distance, it has a similar intense orange. It’s much too early for a Monarch. “Wait! Wait!” I whisper, as it flutters down the path, exploring its new world. I sit without sti ..read more

“I lost big trees in the recent wind,” I tell the Finger Lakes Land Trust steward who answers my call. “A mature oak, a sugar maple, a big hickory, and a few red maples. Many ash are broken and badly wounded and they’re already struggling to survive. A few big white pines broke off at the roots and lie on the forest floor plus at least half a dozen aspen.” She listens quietly. I imagine she’s heard similar reports all week. “Matt who tends my forest and my son Anthony cleaned up the fallen trees and cut the broken pieces,” I say. “They’ll be firewood for next winter, but it hurts to see old t ..read more

“But you’re bound to lose If you let the blues get you scared to feel And I feel like I’m just being born Like a shiny light breaking in a storm There are so many reasons why I love him” Joni Mitchell, “Willy” *** “I wish I could do this for you,” Vic said. “I want to give you a break.” He caressed my sweaty brow as another contraction burst over my body. “You can’t,” I said. I loved him for wanting to help me through the birth of our first child. It hurt, but my body was birthing our child in its own way on its on schedule. Early in the labor, Vic counted time between and during contractions ..read more

Vic in the forest with friends I groped around in the dark searching for my ringing cell phone. It had to be Vic who was resting downstairs. I turned on a low light and made my way to his side. “What do you need, love?” I asked. “I can’t breathe,” he said. “I need to go to the hospital.” This man who never panicked was scared. “You have an oncology appointment in the morning,” I said in my calmest voice. “I can’t wait,” he said. “I can’t breathe.” It was 2008. From previous experiences with Vic, I knew local emergency rooms had no idea what to do with a dying patient with an obscure cancer ..read more

tubes and machines and ventilators I hear my husband Vic’s favorite words when he felt pounded by life. “Sometimes you’re the hammer. Sometimes you’re the anvil.” This week I was the anvil being hammered by viral bronchitis, but I’m not alone and know others going through much harder times. I have friends and sons encouraging and supporting me. I don’t have Covid  and my life is not in obvious danger. My local son Anthony spent a long early morning sitting near me in the hospital room while I was tested and questioned and checked over. Then there were tests to open the airways. After t ..read more

On January 7, thick wet snow fell for the first time this winter. I wasn’t worried. I knew my friend and helper Matt had his eye on the weather. When my husband Vic had lymphoma in 2006, he was too sick to split firewood, so Vic looked for help to take care of our property. He found Matt on Craig’s List. Matt had just moved to Ithaca from Pennsylvania with his wife and young family. He and his wife shared childcare, so a part-time job was just what he needed. At the time, one of my sons was in California and the other was in North Carolina, so I needed a helper. Matt with his daughter Julia ..read more

A man I’ve known since he was a boy put up his yearly Holiday Star, high in an old Spruce tree near the road. I look forward to this every December. Thank you, Brett Beardslee. In the forest, ferns cling to green along the path and Oaks rule like kings and Queens—White, Red, and Black. My sweet dog Disco wanders through the leafless trees in her orange coat, staying reasonably close to me as she searches for something to carry or eat. The moon rises above the forest and brightens our way home.               I end 2023 with a Solstice goodbye to my son Davi ..read more

She glides across clear night skies, growing larger and brighter and fuller as I watch Her from my home on Earth.           While humans drop bombs, destroy forests, and pollute Earth’s water, She witnesses our destruction from afar.         I watch Her rise and set, somehow reassured by Her rhythmic dance with change.     Still, I ask, “How long will She watch over us and protect us from ourselves? How long?” *** Do you have a good view of the night sky or the rising and setting moon? What feelings does it bring as you watch Her changi ..read more

An elderly man stood inside the door of the library. He took a wobbly step toward me, nodded, smiled, and said something in a raspy voice I couldn’t hear. He’d been tall once, but was stooped, rounded, and frail with wispy white hair and loose khaki pants bunched at the waist. His hands were large, knuckled and scarred. A farmer’s hands. His pale blue eyes were kind, and something else. Desperate or needy? A librarian hurried over. “Welcome,” she said. “Come downstairs. I have a pot of coffee on for your reading.” Photo of my Grandpa about the same age as the man in the story I followed her ..read more

Anxiety wants to be my friend. I know because she crawls into bed with me every night. I awaken before dawn and she’s still there, clutching my belly and rattling my mind. It helps a little when my sweet pup Disco lies on my feet, the warm presence of another living being. It helps a little when I follow my breath and slow down the exhalations. One – two – three – four – five – six. Inhale and exhale slowly again, sometimes with pursed lips. It helps to remember that my grandparents once slept in this bed and they were anxious, too, through the Great Depression, two World Wars, a business whe ..read more