There are states I could live in where I’d be surrounded by more people who agreed with me. But I wouldn’t be able to see the sky, and the mountains, if there were mountains, would be all wrong. These things are less simple than they seem. And change needs to come from within as well […]
Thoughts on living in a state whose politics aren’t mine Read More »
As I type this, white lightning forks the night sky to the south. After a deep pink cloud sunset in this land where we can go weeks without clouds, the warm air now rumbles low and deep and electric, and a hint of moisture scents on the building wind. Last night, that wind whistled and
“Lightning is searching for you / It’s scorching bits of earth all along the route” Read More »
I volunteer with the Hopi Foundation’s Owl and Panther Project, an expressive arts program for Tucson refugee families, and for the past three years, the program has been collaborating with the Tucson Museum of Art (TMA) on sculpture, painting, photography, and other projects. Last night I got an early peek at one of the results
The Museum as Sanctuary: Giving Voice to Tucson’s Refugees Read More »
The snow child shelters Under prickly green paddles Winter is melting Inspired by Galeni.
Small spiders, working together to bring down big(ger) prey. My day just got better. (looks up) Also: SNOW! Even better. ETA: And in closer-to-home wildlife news, a new species of scorpion, handing out right along Catalina Highway!
“If this were the last snow curling / On your fingers, in my palm” Read More »
The temperature drops. The clouds grow thick over the mountains. Will it snow? I hope, and watch the snow levels drop, down the mountains, toward the desert floor … but I know better than to hope too hard. The snow levels are low, but not low enough. The freeze will likely come after the rain,
“If this were my last glimpse of winter / what would these eyes see?” Read More »
Two years ago today, my sister called me from two thousand miles away, asking if I was okay, because she heard there’d been a shooting in a Tucson grocery store. I laughed. “Tucson’s a big city,” I said. “We have lots of grocery stores.” I assured her that whatever had happened, it had nothing to
“Once more, we’ll all remember where we were.” Read More »
This morning dawned gray and subdued, streetlamps shining on wet streets, sun hidden. A quiet morning, and an oddly settled and grounded one, few cars on the streets, rain drops splattering the windshield. Not the desert’s usual welcoming of the new year, but a right and true enough one. Whatever the new year means to