The Daily Unfolding

“And I am thinking: maybe just looking and listening is the real work. Maybe the world, without us, is the real poem.” (Mary Oliver)

  • Hello!

    And welcome! Thanks for checking out my blog. I hope you enjoy your time here. I like little moments. The moments in this blog are ones that inspire me to write. I also like origami. It is choreographed folding and unfolding. Sometimes you make a fold and then immediately unfold the paper. The crease that…

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  • Last Year’s Leaves

    Last year’s leaves lay in waiting covering the garden beds. Spring’s hopefulness nudged me  to tend to the beauty  trying to be born  in the garden beds by the front door. Be careful not to kill the fresh sprouts, I heard a voice inside say. They need a chance to live. I’m here to clear…

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  • A New Season

    The snow melted. Clouds thinned. And there,        blue sky. This might be a new season. I didn’t forget about the arrival of spring  but I didn’t remember, either. Balancing between the two,  like sitting on a seesaw’s fulcrum it wasn’t until the bursts of new blooms appeared that I tipped into remembering. Forsythia,        called ForCynthia…

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  • Spring

    It’s spring and I’m still wearing my tall winter boots. Little islands of snow remain in our yard. Pine tree branches, big and small, lie broken on the ground. What mess is from which storm? Hard to tell. It’s spring and I’m still wearing my long winter coat. The maroon one with the fake fur…

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  • The Tree Idea

    He looked outside as he answered my questions. When we met two months ago, he avoided eye contact. Nervous? Shy? Probably both. But today he seemed at ease, even after his mother left to use the restroom. See that vine that’s wrapped itself in the pine tree in the parking lot? he said. It will…

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  • 4:57 am

    The alarm is set for 5:00 am. At 4:57 am, little whines start on the other side of the bedroom door. (No alarm is needed when you have a 52 pound baby who wants to say hello.) She sees the door open and runs towards me. Oh, thank goodness, she says.  You didn’t forget about…

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  • Trumpeter

    I don’t understand the grunts. She’s fed, she’s walked, she’s loved. Why the complaints? Hmmmf,  she groans, like a sad muppet. Is she mad that I’m lounging in one of her favorite spots? But she has 14 other favorite spots in this house. What more could a princess dog desire? Hmmmmmf. Now she sounds like…

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  • Joyful Routine

    Her nose knows before I have a chance to call her to the kitchen. I turn around and she is sitting pretty by my feet, licking her lips. She’s a silent beggar. The blueberries need to be washed first.  She should know this by now. I pick one and offer it to her.  Taking it…

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  • Protection

    Driving to work at 7:00 am, I often get caught behind a school bus as it makes a slow crawl down the road, picking up students bundled in their puffy coats.  One morning, I stopped with the cars in front of me for a bus coming our way. A school-aged boy ran across the street…

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  • 45 Miles

    I drive 45 miles north, mostly highway. Take the exit for your house. Pass the touchless carwash, The diner you said isn’t very good, The church under repair. Pull into the driveway, meet you in the mud room. Shoes off, purse hung. Coffee? Yes, please. I’ll be on the blue couch, under the cream blanket…

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  • She’s Older Now

    The snow arrived, sneaking in overnight while we slept. I shoveled the little side deck so Willow wouldn’t slip. She watched me from the kitchen door window. Are you done yet? Can I come out? Opened the door and out she went, launching herself off the deck to sprint in large circles around the yard.…

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