The Light that Binds

On the Winter Solstice I participated in a dawn Yule Ritual that celebrated the magical transmutation of dark to light.  As the sun rose glittering like a ruby over the eastern horizon, I felt like dancing.  My very soul quickening with the rising orb: here comes the sun and I say, it’s all right. In … More The Light that Binds

Love

I typically keep myself far away from the daily news cycle and heard nothing of the tragedy in Connecticut until my husband appeared home early from work to hug our children.  I did, however, catch on NPR this week a story on Syria where they interviewed children and families displaced by the violence there.  That … More Love

Garden Authority

It has been too long since I held communion with the Green Realm.  Around these parts, it is a quiet time.  Only the evergreens remain to add their chlorophyll ease to eyes weary of browns and grays. Yet, there is work to be done.  I cut down the withered stalks of dead flowers, scattering their … More Garden Authority

Down the Shore

My heart is in Jersey this week.  It’s the place of my birth and the roots of both my adopted and biological family trees intertwine in the soils there.  Since learning of the storm’s destruction, my mind has agitated down the roads of my childhood, as if the churning energies of Sandy unearthed more than … More Down the Shore

Reverse Engineering

When I told my family and friends that I was going to start a web site called Harvest Liberty, most politely smiled and said something like, “Is that so?”  One dear friend and mentor, however, offered this: “I challenge you to report back on how you do it.”  At the time I laughed and accepted … More Reverse Engineering

Neighborly Relations

It’s been a strange Monday.  Grumpy and contentious.  On my neighborhood list serve this morning someone posted a link to the American Foundation for Equal Rights (AFER).  The vote on Same Sex Marriage Amendment 1 comes up in May in North Carolina, so it’s at least timely.  But very quickly someone wrote in to ask … More Neighborly Relations

Unselfdeceptive

There are small miracles within writer’s block.  The whistle of a train can cut the silence.  Long and low across the night, its rumbling, creaky progress echoes, until, with a layering of staccato beats, it accelerates and passes out of town. I, too, pass, and speed above the fast hum, a rhythmic clacking and my … More Unselfdeceptive