Spruce Kiss
So I was kissing spruce on the rugged, ancient path. Trying to find my footing with a mouth full of conifer. Deciding this was the taste of green, were it to have a flavor. With an extra hint of brine given the inescapable ocean always industrious down below. Taking in the landscape with my eyes and my mouth.
Trickster Ocean
On a recent hiking trip to Newfoundland, I wondered about the trickster on that island. Walking along the easternmost knife edge of the of the North American continent, in almost the precise middle of the trip, standing atop angular rock that fell fifty feet to the cove below, it became clear: it’s the ocean.
The Knot That Brought Me Here
Her words let me dream about a place in the intervening years. It got me to buy plane tickets and say yes and put my feet on a piece of earth I wouldn't have otherwise.
