February 13, 2021
I didn’t meet Mildred Kanipe until thirty-eight years after her death. I stumbled upon her homestead and grave by accident, along an obscure back road between London and Oakland.
Around here, it’s less than an hour’s drive from London to Oakland. These are not the great cities but their rural Oregon namesakes, mere pinpoints along a map few have cause to follow.
The day I met Mildred, I… READ MORE
January 31, 2021
I have a love of trees (especially Redwoods); there is something so grounded, solid, inviting about a tree trunk. The soft bark invites a caress and a full lean-in as I let it bear my weight.
Today I'm walking through the desert and am surrounded by cacti. Tall, ancient, wizened elders, they stand in ways that seem almost indifferent… READ MORE
January 11, 2021
My mother and I agreed on our favorite tree. From the porches of our adjacent dwellings, the magnificent ancient fir towered above us. It was certainly older than me, perhaps even her. For almost a century, its limbs grew graceful and majestic. I was inspired by its resolute strength in standing still yet constantly growing. We watched it dance in every wind, concerned sometimes that it might fall in a gale. After all, its… READ MORE