Still Amazed
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BlogAboutSearch
Still Amazed
A place to pause
Teaching & LearningInterviewsStories & SnippetsMore
Back to the Garden
Back to the Garden
Memoir, Travel, Family HistoryCyn CarboneOctober 27, 2025oxford, childhood, grandparenting, felix, gardens, memories
What Now?
What Now?
Cyn CarboneOctober 25, 2025
October 12
October 12
Friends, Finding Hope, MemoirCyn CarboneOctober 12, 2025Denis Johnson, William Stafford, time, wisdom, changes, loss, my father, coping, No Kings Day, commentary, politics, memoirComment
All Those Stories
All Those Stories
Memoir, Poetry, On WritingCyn CarboneOctober 4, 2025poetry, stories, storytelling, memoir, Santa Barbara, memories, childhood, Brooklyn, movingComment
Honey, I’m Here For The Ride
Honey, I’m Here For The Ride
Commentary, Memoir, NatureCyn CarboneSeptember 25, 2025moving, commentary, memoir, United Nations, memories, change, Baxter BlackComment
The Usual Things
The Usual Things
Commentary, Memoir, NatureCyn CarboneSeptember 20, 2025memoir, oral history, robert hubbell, finding hope, friendsComment
Reinvention
Reinvention
Commentary, Memoir, Finding Hope, PoetryCyn CarboneSeptember 11, 2025memoir, moving, change, jack gilbert, jack gilbert, lompoc, commentary
Staggered Stance
Staggered Stance
MemoirCyn CarboneSeptember 3, 2025 Comments
On Labor Day
On Labor Day
Commentary, MemoirCyn CarboneSeptember 1, 2025memoir, Labor Day, workers, my father, political commentary Comments
Older
Lines and reflections Fog at play. A hike with friends...foolproof remedy for the blues. We’re fortified now. A storied old house: “Outdoors the wind./Indoors the locked heart and the lost key.” (Louis Macniece) We ran into a skeleton, a miniature mule, and Milly today. I’m obsessed. Can you blame me?! Looking out towards Gaviota Peak the fog considers a comeback Ranch roads on this late summer morning... red vein veterinary lesson best kind of welcome Well, THIS was unexpected. And this is how we are getting to know the infinitely fascinating and oh-so-faraway Felix...sigh. When a friend calls to me from the road And slows his horse to a meaning walk, I don't stand still and look around On all the hills I haven't hoed, And shout from where I am, What is it? No, not as there is a time to talk. I thrust my hoe in th In a dark time the eye begins to see (Roethke) a walk adorned by swirls of fog The shy return of clouds.
“Instructions for living a life. Pay attention. Be astonished. Tell about it.”
— Mary Oliver
 

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