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Oh how the months speed by…
September 2014 S M T W T F S « Aug 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30
The latest from Our Little House in the Big Woods
- My first love…before Lake Superior
- Follow your feet.
- Serendipity, a light house & wind-blown hair
- Ladies of the lake and other Lake Superior sunset photos
- What makes you shine? (the tale of a book tour…)
- My public radio interview
- When a raptor needs the doctor
- Oh, you, nature child
- The lives we didn’t live.
- Monday morning eyes
Read, read, read…months and months of photos and words…
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Tag Archives: woods
I spend seconds, minutes, hours, days, watching leaves on our forest trees. Electric early-summer leaves in shades of velvet green and lime green and verdant green. Leaves fluttering. Leaves lying stock-still, not phased by any ruffling wind. Leaves kissed by … Continue reading
Last night Barry revved up the lawn mower. The Husqvarna tractor chugged around the house, the blades trimming grass and clover and weeds and wildflowers, when–unexpectedly–I heard a loud crash. Barry continued to drive the mower over to the shed … Continue reading
Happy weekend, readers. The last day of May beckons. I just slapped a mosquito here in the house, ending its short buzzing life. They rise in clouds in the woods, singing their blood-sucking songs. Barry thinks I exaggerate about the … Continue reading
Even though this long winter continues to snow and blow and freeze and fuss, I still think an icy snowfall sparkles beautifully. This morning, captured under the glow of our deck light, heavy wet snow dressed the woods in grandeur … Continue reading
Merry Christmas, dear readers, from our snowy Little House in the Big Woods in Aura, Upper Peninsula, Michigan, just a dozen owl hoots from the nearest four-way stop. I wish you the happiest of holidays. May you enjoy this season … Continue reading
We really must quit meeting like this. We must quit telling stories blessed freezing winter day after winter day. But why not tell stories? The local Anishinabe huddled around campfires in wigwams all winter spinning yarns of Wenabozhoo and the … Continue reading