Still Amazed
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BlogAboutSearch
Still Amazed
A place to pause
Teaching & LearningInterviewsStories & SnippetsMore
Saturday's Poem: love is a place
Saturday's Poem: love is a place
PoetrycynthiaNovember 27, 2010poem, ee cummings, love Comments
Getting A Handel On Things
Finding Hope, MemoircynthiaNovember 23, 2010Handel's Messiah, Christmas, Syracuse, holidays, Brooklyn, St. Mark's, memoir Comments
Pterodactyls Over Brooklyn
Family History, MemoircynthiaNovember 21, 2010brooklyn, childhood memories, Eddie, my brother Comments
Starfish
PoetrycynthiaNovember 20, 2010poem, poetry, Eleanor Lerman, Starfish, luck, lifeComment
How Writers Grow
How Writers Grow
On Writing, Teaching, Books and publicationscynthiaNovember 19, 2010teaching, students, writing, books, letters from studentsComment
Dinner Party
Dinner Party
Friends, Memoir, Ranch LifecynthiaNovember 17, 2010memoir, birthday, friends, the neighborhood, dinner party, turning 60, records, Donovan Comment
Blessing
Blessing
Friends, Memoir, TravelcynthiaNovember 15, 2010travel, Jill, Turkey, England, peacocks, wonders, friends Comments
Still Life
Still Life
Memoir, Ranch LifecynthiaNovember 15, 2010Dan Gerber, meditation, bike rides, perception, November, Ranch life, wondersComment
Saturday's Poem: Why I Need the Birds
Saturday's Poem: Why I Need the Birds
PoetrycynthiaNovember 13, 2010birds, poetry, Lisel MuellerComment
Newer 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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