F A L L

seasonal sunset before the year's long night— sleepy descent into creative darkness. seeds germinate beneath the cooling ground; there is [i think. i hope] healing in that stillness. i wish and pray for triumphant, awe-inspiring blooms when we all wake. i'll do my best to make something beautiful. i love you, jess

Mockingbirds

It’s morning, although I’m not sure the time. Dew still twinkles and slides on every surface and small critters---be them squirrels, rabbits, prairie dogs, or a mix of them all---shuffle and scuttle in the tall grass. High up in the pines, mockingbirds chack-chack-cheeeooo back and forth, back and forth.  Summer sticks around most of the …

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Sweet Girl

For the third day in a row, it’s pouring. My grumpy donkeys huddle together in the barn as the rain batters the tin roof so loud that it rattles my bones---it must be deafening to their large ears. After piling their feeders with extra hay in lieu of typical grazing time, I pull the hood …

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Humidity. Healing.

Few places hold a torch when it comes to humidity intensity in the East Texas piney woods, especially after four straight days of early-summer rainfall. Breathing outside during dawn or dusk is like inhaling warm, invisible snot that sticks in little teardrop beads to every single part of you. It’s oddly sentimental though; growing up …

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