The old coon hunter drove his pickup truck out to my place. Ever since I’d told him that Farmer Sims planted field corn in our meadow, he’d been excited about the possibilities of a coon hunt in my corn field. I’d picked up the phone earlier in the evening: “HELLO, BROTHER!” He practically yelled. “Do…
I used to take time to ground, to create, to think, to revel in nature. It wasn’t until I taught others how and why to do it that I realized: I’d stopped. Creativity is life, and I’d let myself die. No more.
I emersed me in/ woods, hoping to stop dying./ I must bathe more oft.
Identifying plants — especially native ones — can be a somewhat difficult process, especially if you’ve moved (as I have) to a bio-zone different from where you’ve lived before. I was talking about this issue with my brother Gene, out in Washington State. He’s gotten very good at identifying native plants on Vashon Island, where…
Old satellite dish,/ turned skyward, filled with water:/ Fine redneck birdbath.
Northwest Georgia is notorious for several things, including large fire ant hills and thick, sticky red clay. The clay is so thick, it is hard to imagine any plant can grow in it without a lot of compost or some other organic material to break it up. However, the fire ants make their hills in…