Of all the paths you take in life, make sure a few of them are dirt. – JOHN MUIR
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On our recent saunter, exploring The Lost Forty, we discovered trees that tower a hundred feet above the forest floor – a ceiling as high as in prehistory and a rare site in today’s world.
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May this tree be a symbol of our hope and a remembrance of the sacredness of all life.
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10th Wang Center Symposium — Healing: Pathways for Restoration and Renewal. This event explores the concept of healing in the broadest sense.
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We are in the beginning stages of a new project that chronicles the seasonal changes from snowy days to the rebirth of the earth in spring and into the color palette of autumn.
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We might even learn that along other paths, literal and analogous, across other parts of the world, where our discordant imprint on the earth is entirely intentional, the consequences of our presence are also entirely ours to amend, even if only one step at a time.
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My trip to the county landfill that day was not my first. This experience made me think about my consumption and waste.
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As we embark on our next phase in the St. Croix River Valley, we are grateful for all of you who have been our travel companions and have offered the support we have felt this past year.
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Like the wild plum tree, I feel the pull of both the light and darkness of the fall equinox. My patience wears thin, like the bark on that tree. My words can be sharp, like those thorns. I’m scarred and weathered. Sour and sweet.
I think it fair to say that we humans have a special gift for dreaming about what’s over the edge of our known world. I explore new things, creatively adapt to different circumstances, let new discoveries rise, and continue from there by telling stories about what I found.
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I have had the joy and privilege to experience silence so deep I could hear snowflakes falling, which can be pretty loud if they are the only things making noise.
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What could be better than eating a cantaloupe in August picked first thing in the morning from the Hoffman Farm and consumed less than 24 hours after being plucked from the vine.
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When the world’s problems feel too big to handle, I put on a pair of muddy old boots and hang out with 120,000 stinging insects.
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For as long as I can remember I’ve been intrigued by rocks. As a little girl I thought of them as magic and later in my life, Chuck and I have used them as color pallets for the paintings we do.
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Our time as Holden Village Executive Director’s was completed last August. What an incredible experience and privilege it was to live in the remote wilderness of the Cascade Mountains.
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The Pink Moon is believed to be a symbol of light, rebirth and renewal. A time to connect with the earth and the world around us in new and life giving ways.
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