. flattened frog the silence of early morning . every five years every cell in our bodies is replaced you don’t need to know that to know ...

. crow and seagull on whirling winds a white orchid at the window fading . Dull olive of cedar outweighs other colors, rationed so careful...

. Struck by its sharpness and fragility, I study a blade of grass. This opens my eyes to spring blossoms and winter snow, to nature's w...

. Here was a lake surrounded by trees—oaks, as far as I remember. . Where is the tall grass? Where is the wind? . There is nothing left, onl...

. Upstream a short distance from town is (or was, I should say) a working grain terminal and elevator, not exactly a harbor, perhaps most no...

. The rough idling of an 18-wheeler with its pshhhhit, pshhhhit airbrakes stir him in the early dawn. It’s best to move on anyway. Out of me...

I’m not given to superstition or unsupported flights of imagination, but not so long ago, I had a strange experience, the details of which g...

On Saturday morning, the rear entrance to the corner building is locked, so I enter through the front of the coffee shop. It is early and no...

We visit an historic house, one of many in the Hudson Valley. Along the drive leading up to the mansion is an avenue of black locust. The s...

on the stop bank wandering with the shadows cast by clouds We walk beside the estuary taking photographs of bird life: shags, herons, ducks,...

All night a roaring of waves slamming onto the shore. All night a Wagnerian symphony of wind and water; now and then the thunder of a falli...

Well what are we moaning about? We knew the forecast was poor. For goodness sake, it's not a tsunami! Think of Samoa—beautiful Samoa whe...

Train Rome to Naples, countryside covered in grapevines, orchards planted in careful rows, tomatoes already sprouting—the fields are planted...

I shake it. It makes a feeble sound like an ant’s complaint. I pour it out onto the table where it breaks into a pile of noise, and like Hum...

Dusk mutes green and all of green’s variations. Along the path, bare feet press the sheen out of damp clover. White blossoms of blackberrie...

On a Sunday morning, dad's sitting in a private hospital room by a sunlit window. He tells me his doctors have agreed to let him use a c...

On one side of it hang small wooden clothes hangers, demure and down-turning like an old maid’s shoulders. On the other half is a row of fou...

He's an artist, still asleep under the quilt. Last night's shoes and clothes are scattered, leaving a trail back to the kitchen. I...

A short skirt is a promise. Nothing more, nothing less. Guys view promises as sacred trusts; women know promises can easily evaporate, like ...

mist eases below a windbreak hawthorn an alphorn grips air forest walk. struggle. climb over mutilated trees, snap detached branches, crunch...