How many hours a day are my feet in contact with a natural, earthen surface? How many hours are my eyes, my body, my mind, exposed to artificial light? What must it have been like for our primitive ancestors, for whom food was the only real physical necessity, and shelter and fire the greatest of conveniences? O, the things we take for granted, the things we want, the things we […]
Writing is one more way of living forever, like digging in the garden, making bread, and bathing a child. It’s a city lot, but if I walk the same narrow path through the yard to its every corner each and every day, my footsteps will form a scenic nature trail. Out, back, and around, in every direction and through all the seasons — who knows what I might see? We […]
Water is rushing over the road again, coursing through an old channel of the river that’s cleansing Goose Lake from top to bottom, and carrying debris from Mission Lake into the Willamette. Muddy in places, the path through the area is in generally good condition. Dandelions and daisies are abundant, and line the roadsides leading into the park. The immense black walnut is beginning to bud. There are enough daisies […]
green water / blue heron /gray sky a breath sooner or later green water / gray sky . [ 1563 ]
Blue stars, yellow stars. Chicory in bloom.Every inch a mile. A galaxy too.This old earth knows what to do. Do you? August 20, 2022 . [ 1526 ]
Cooler weather, fresher air, and a southwest breeze.Two pictures from this morning’s stroll. Mission Lake Goose Lake In the foreground, wapato. Under the low branch, lilies.That’s where the water begins. August 19, 2022 . [ 1525 ]
Moonlight, streetlight, starlight. I saw the skunk again, just as I was starting my run. With its tail held high, it was crossing the street from the yard of one neighbor to that of another. When I was done, I met it again coming down the driveway of the house just west of ours. This time its tail was down. In no hurry at all, it crossed the street again. […]
Thirty-six degrees. After so many inches of rain, Goose Lake has risen and expanded by hundreds of feet all around. We have never seen it this full, or as heavily populated by ducks. The road that leads deeper into the park is submerged far and wide beneath swiftly moving water, part of the river having returned to its old channel — the area by the old black cottonwood that has […]
Our recent walk through the fog near Goose Lake seems like something that happened ages ago — a lifetime, maybe more. I study the calendar: is it something I really know how to read? Upon our arrival, we met a man and a dog who had just finished their walk. Standing beside the open door of his small yellow pickup, the man was gently blotting moisture from the dog’s head. […]
And what of the salamander we met on the trail, skin smooth, mud-colored, orange beneath, walking on its toes, crossing in the chilly damp? And what of the woodpecker knocking unseen from above? What of the massive cleft rock in the stream? Are we to think nothing of them and pretend their existence away? Or shall we carry them with us, and make ourselves living reminders that all is not […]
William Michaelian 