I was viscerally aware, that the United States of America, with the help of the Supreme Court, has broken every single treaty it signed with our indigenous siblings. The Supreme Court recently has upended environmental law. Fire season in the dry, western states has begun. I think about Jackie Whisperstep and the fragility of her house given the heartiness of the weeds that grow too near it. And I long to go back, to stand with those to whom we made promises we did not keep.
Posts filed under Personal essay
Wintering Within
As I write this the days are lengthening, the sun riding high in the sky, and the expansiveness of summer stretches before me—though the days seem to be filling fast. So much to cram in here, in Michigan, where summer is the fleetest season: lake time, picnics, parties, peony blooms, and cicada chirps, fireflies and star showers, light until late in the evening and 4 a.m. birdsong. Long, hot, humid-filled days and hopefully, lots of water play. But you will be reading this after all that has passed, and the days shorten. I am always surprised how soon the dark comes in late August, how quickly the dusk rises, how the trees begin their color change, their leaf drop.
A Moment of Joy
And then, unexpectedly, I heard a little voice singing a brief blues lyric in the back of my head. “A thimbleful of good news, a bucketful of bad.” Thinking that a line that good likely did not originate with me, I immediately Googled it. And found to my happy surprise, that in fact it had.
