How big can our love be?



I often wonder.

How big can our love be?

Does it stop with ourselves?  Is our love only for our individual human self, our Kathy, our John, our Diana, our Lee Ann, our own precious being wearing this human flesh?

Does our love shine fuller, brighter?  Does it encompass our friends, those who think like we do?  Does it beat swifter for those who seem like us, who resonate, who agree?  Does it wrap its loving blanket around our pals, our best friends, our dear ones, our companions?  Is this sweet love how we recognize the world?

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Posted in January, 2019 | Tagged , , , , , | 34 Comments


It's always snowy.  Some days are just snowier than others.

In-between the woods.

Shhh, dear reader.  Let’s whisper.

Let’s remember.

Let’s lower our voices.

Because this is the in-between time.

It’s in-between Christmas and New Years.

It’s in-between gift-giving and a brand new start.

It’s in-between the old and stagnant–and the unknown.

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Posted in December 2018 | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , | 26 Comments

The Christmas Eve blues



Dear Blogging Friends,

I am having one of “those” Christmas Eve moments.  I’m sure some of you have had them too.  Those moments when you’re suddenly feeling blue, out-of-sorts, dismal.  It’s not yet time to open gifties (that’s tomorrow morning in our house) and it’s not yet time to make Christmas Eve dinner to share with one’s husband.  It’s not time to call all the faraway kids and parents and brothers who live in New Jersey, Oregon, lower Michigan and Georgia.

What time is it? you ask.

It’s time to feel the Christmas Eve blues.

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Posted in December 2018 | Tagged , , , , , , , , | 48 Comments

Dear Fountainpen,

Tame chipmunk "Chippy"  admiring one of your note cards

Tame chipmunk “Chippy” admiring one of your note cards

Dear Fountainpen,

On Sunday we carried our ceramic Christmas tree–the one Barry’s mom crafted for us many years ago–upstairs from the basement.  I discovered some of your hand-crocheted snowflakes and sprinkled them beneath the green tree.

You’ve been my friend since 2009, a blog reader extraordinaire, devouring my stories about trees, nature and our Little House in the Big Woods of the Upper Peninsula of Michigan.

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Posted in December 2018 | Tagged , , , , , , , , , | 54 Comments

On Cattail Pond


Cattail Pond

Some of you may remember the movie “On Golden Pond” that came out in 1981.  Don’t you love the image that name invokes?  A serene pond-lake golden in the sunset.  A pair of loons welcoming the main characters home.  Ahhh, idyllic.

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Posted in November 2018 | Tagged , , , , , , , , , | 29 Comments

Yesterday’s woes

Spider on web between electric wires on garden fence.  What kind of spider IS it?

Some of you have been wondering where the heck my blog post Prayer for the teensy weensy spider went.  A few faithful readers received their email yesterday inviting them to visit Lake Superior Spirit and discover the whys and wherefores of that wee creepy crawlie.  Imagine their surprise when no such post appeared here.

“Page not found” says the link, according to John and Sybil and Pam.

These dear readers sent messages, comments and emails inquiring “what the heck happened to your post?”

OK, here’s the good, the bad and the ugly.

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Posted in November 2018 | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , | 48 Comments

You are a cell in my body




I’ve been thinking this weekend how every person we meet has the potential to change us, to widen our world, to prompt us to let go what no longer serves.

How each friendly or shining spirit can lift us up when we’re faltering, when we’re unsure.  How we can energetically add support to each other by our simple presence, our loving words, our sunny hello, our humble offerings.

How even each frowning or ignoring face has the possibility of either hurting our tender hearts more deeply–or perhaps redirecting our attention to our own inner light.  We are sometimes bruised by what we perceive to be rejection, or perhaps we’re called to ponder what might be causing them pain, what causes them to shut down their own tender hearts.  I’m sure we’ve all traveled both paths.  The path of closing our inner doors in the face of travail, or the path of opening even though it hurts.

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Posted in November 2018 | Tagged , , , , , , , , | 34 Comments