July 31, 2013


finding our ways back
to the corners we have claimed —
this spider and I



July 30, 2013


out of all the clouds
my eye keeps coming back
to this one

July 29, 2013


end of the season —
we cut and dry lavender,
protecting something


July 28, 2013


What does the moth
hope for as it beats and beats
against the glass?

July 27, 2013


planning our route home
around the best view
of that field we love


July 26, 2013


threading my needle
to sew constellations —
sequins for stars


(for my friend Wendy Cook, inspired by this post)


Lessons From Camp 2013


When we tell people that our annual vacation tradition consists of two weeks of camping in the duneside scrub pine forests of Cape Cod, they sometimes have a difficult time imagining how truly decadent that ends up feeling. 

So here, once again, is our post-camp photo journal, along with some related lessons we learned (or, in some cases, re-learned) at camp this year. (Clicking on pictures will give you access to a larger version of the same image.) It certainly felt luxurious to us!


Live it up!
(Just because you're roughing it,
doesn't mean you can't splurge.)


No hands. Definitely.



Design your own golf course.



Bring a friend.


Rain brings new opportunities.



Honor your traditions.




Use your imagination.
(There wasn't any rope, but most cars slowed.)


Look up.



Look down.



Change your perspective.



Find great teachers.



Ride the waves all the way in.



Bring books, and a head lamp.


(Thanks so much to our camping partners Sassafras Mama + JT, 
and our camping neighbors Kathia, Marc, + Kosma,
as well as to Aunt Chelle, Mickie, Grammy + Grampy, Grandpa + Nana, 
Ryan Garcia, Steve Erickson, the Pattons, the Rawleys,
Lorraine, Mike, Ray, Deborah,
and everyone else who conspired to make
our time at camp especially wonderful this year.

More great pics are available over at Sassafras Mama
(in this post and in this one!)
and if you have the time, treat yourself to a look 
at how these boys have GROWN
by checking out the posts 
from 201220112010, 2009, 20082007, and 2006.)

July 25, 2013


a doe and her fawns
walk to the cemetery
in search of flowers




July 24, 2013


a small toad
hopping through the dappled sun
gently, gently



July 23, 2013


beyond black trees
clouds in the night sky
backlit by the moon


July 22, 2013


beyond black trees
clouds in the night sky
backlit by the moon


July 21, 2013


staying up to talk —
for you, too, the moon
not yet full


July 20, 2013


crisp blue sky
banal and invincible
until the storm comes


July 19, 2013


the hottest day yet —
I sit still to feel my sweat
sliding down my back


July 18, 2013


when the breeze comes
we turn wordlessly
to face it


July 17, 2013


like rain
but lacking rain’s steadiness —
pine needles, falling


July 16, 2013


“We found water!”
All the boys digging holes
at the beach



a dream so sweet
I wake to find myself
wanting a bookmark


July 15, 2013


at bedtime
from all of our pockets
whispers of sand






July 14, 2013


heard but not seen
the busy whirr and squeak
of a hummingbird


July 13, 2013


each brittle branch
apt to snap under weight —
a dead pine, still here


July 12, 2013

these nights when the wind
carries inland
the roar of the waves


July 11, 2013


quick glances
after too-close thunder —
checking for wholeness


July 10, 2013


a near-white sky —
all day, the only shadows
from birds and trees







July 09, 2013


You should be afraid,
we tell the young squirrel
who has strayed so close


July 08, 2013


shreds of fog
drift through our day
leaving damp behind



July 07, 2013


trying to hold back
the sun with their singing —
birds at dusk



July 06, 2013


haiku pencil —
eraser worn down
before the point