Who would ever set out to paint the sea, especially here in Maine? How could anyone get it right?
"Restoring a native species often means introducing it into an altered habitat, which comes with a risk of failure."
The birds leave in their wake a strange summer, a time of despair and also of gratitude.
Can you put a tree like this back together? Can you make a half tree out of a whole one?
"In this strange new heat come new species, and some of the life we know slips away."
On these winter days, missing my children and friends, I spend time with a part of the wild world up close.
"When I saunter, I pause. I look around and listen. I give time for what might happen next. It’s a long, slow thank-you for the day ahead."
"In these days of such stillness, chaos, and grief, we’ve got time to figure out what needs to heal and how we might help that happen."
The great poem “The Waste Land,” by T.S. Eliot, begins with these lines: “April is the cruellest month, breeding / Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing / Memory and desire …”
"One of my favorite sights begins as a line of dark shapes in the woods moving towards the clearing."
"In 1952, Charlotte’s Web came into the world, and it’s been with us ever since."