BY QUINCY MCMICHAEL Snow is water, and water conducts electricity, but the electric fence will not fire as usual, buried three feet deep.
BY SARA MCAULAY I’ve come here for raptors. Left my campsite at dawn, hiked down through blue shadows to the meadow.
BY BETH SHELBURNE This is for you, he says, dropping the wet, glistening shell into my open palm like a coin.
BY MARY DOWNES How Nikos Kazantzakis’ “The Last Temptation of Christ” changed my understanding of Christianity - at 24, Jesus of Nazareth became personal.
BY SONIA TRICKEY We began our ascent of the South Cirque at 5:20am. Snow had fallen thickly overnight, the path was invisible and it was very dark. Most of us had barely slept.
BY ANTHONY EMERSON December is here, and soon snow will fall and accumulate in amounts that must be measured in feet.
BY EDWARD M COHEN I only write this down because it causes so much pain. It involves so much loss that in the moment, when I awake with no desire to rush for a pen, it’s hard to see the value in what is happening.
BY NEIL ELLIS ORTS This farm boy wandered the acres of woods and explored the gully. I sat under the cedar that grew on a high bank, roots exposed, waiting for the right number of rains to let go.
BY JENNIFER CHRISTGAU AQUINO When the fall the sky turned orange from fire, and a pandemic roared, and the children lay in bed all day, and cancer took residence in your armpits, you found a bear in your basement.
BY ELANA MARGOT SANTANA Yesterday I found a salamander resting or dying in my garden. Translucent blood red skin with yellow speckles, big black bulging eyes...