A Winter Gift
It’s been cold and clear here for the past few days. I walk or run my usual two-mile loop on a country road; Canada geese fly overhead, their calls ringing out in the chill sunshine. I find myself glad for blue skies and brown fields, for stark vistas, and for subtle details among the roadside’s remaining weeds. A curled leaf, a thorny seedhead, a bright berry—slim pickings alone, but together they make the winter seem special for its own stark beauty. I send you my warmest holiday wishes and share with you… Read More
Summer’s End
It always sneaks up too fast. Dark creeps in earlier each evening; the woods go silent; swallows gather on the power lines, then vanish. I was happy to fit in a final weekend at the ocean, where it was still plenty warm for one last swim. A row of kites fluttered overhead. Yellow primroses bloomed at the edge of the dunes. But flocks of sandpipers chasing the waves amidst late-season beach-goers were a sure tell of the season’s turning, as were the multitude of bright orange-red rose hips ripening in the sun…. Read More
Jean Mackay
The Nature Explorer’s Sketchbook
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