Posted November 20, 2007 
Comments(9) 
As a kid, I tried capturing fog in sandwich bags and setting it free in the house. This didn’t work too well and drove my mom crazy since it involved a lot of running in and out of the front door on a cold November day. I tried filling an old mayonnaise jar with fog so I could at least have some in my room, but this didn’t work either; the fog always escaped, oblivious to any borders. Read more »
Posted November 13, 2007 Comments(5) 
Before the internet took off, I had the opportunity to live for five years on an island in the San Juan Archipelago.
The island had a year-round population of seven people and no ferry service. While I was occasionally lonely, I was rarely, if ever, bored. (I’m sure that if I could have had a blog back then, it would have helped tremendously!)
Those years on the island shaped my character in a deep and lasting way. I spent many hours on solitary nature walks, exploring everything from the intertidal region to the tangled undergrowth of the forest. I took photos and kept a detailed journal of my observations.
Since I’m not feeling well today, but still determined to keep up with NaBloPoMo, I am posting an excerpt from my nature diary during those years on the island. (The photo accompanying this post was taken off island, in case you wondered. It’s a Sharp-Shinned hawk that used to hang out across the street from me in Port Townsend, Washington.) At any rate, I hope you enjoy this little trip to the island: Read more »
Posted July 6, 2007 Comments(4) A herd of wild boar roams the woods by the country house. I had just learned the word for wild boar, in fact, when I saw what looked like a hairy pig near the front window. “Cinghiale!” I shouted and ran for the camera.
By-the time we got outside the piglets were fleeing as you can see in the photo. If I had only looked to my right sooner, I could have Read more »
Posted June 14, 2007 Comments(3) When I’m in a new place, I search for the oldest tree nearby. I like to think of all the days and nights that particular tree has stood in that same exact place, through droughts and storms, hot and cold, all the changes it’s seen, and how its life cycle is so much longer than mine. I marvel at what it must be like to live on such a different rhythm.
