The abandoned lot was overgrown with brambles and bushes, grasses, and greens. An old cabin, fallen in on itself, was nearly hidden in a deep grove of pines. But it was the mist of powder blue, hovering over a boggy patch that made me stop short, then carefully tiptoe over, breath held. Yes, indeed, there at my feet were water forget-me-nots, growing in a delicate spray across the shady, undulating earth. Never before have I seen them in the wild here.
An unexpected delight.
We sat at the edge of the creek, settled into the gentle morning sun with cups of coffee and tea. The water tumbled over stones in front of us, laughing and happy. And I wondered about the ducks. Where were they? The wild mallard hens who’d raised their babies here for a couple seasons in a row, had disappeared. Two? Three(?) summers now, had passed, without a single hen with her floating brood on our creek. Had they moved on? Found a better nursery for their young? Sigh. I missed them so. Missed hearing the mamas quack to their babies, missed watching them swim upstream every morning and afternoon, then bob back down. Missed watching the ducklings skitter across the water like motor boats, missed watching them pile into a downy heap on shore and fall asleep.
Then (I’m not making this up), I glanced down stream, to where the willow tree meets the creek, where the bank is flat and wide, and there, unbelievably, stood a mallard hen with three puff ball ducklings waddling around her legs. Gasp! They were back! In mid July? In mid July. Tiny, downy ducklings were here, on our creek, so very late in the season, but they were back! We watched in disbelief, silently mouthing our exclamations to each other as mama portaged her babies around the rapids then plunked back into the water and paddled past us, heading upstream, her little ones paraded behind her.
An unexpected delight.
Hello, loves! I’m thrilled to be back here, writing, sharing, and chatting with you once again. I’ve missed you.
As always, time away brings me back with renewed inspiration, vision, and plans. More about all of this is coming, but one thing that I’m happy to say right now is, going forward, all my posts will be available for everyone to read and enjoy - paywall-free.*
While I’ve deeply appreciated the financial support of you who’ve been paid subscribers, I’ve found that this model simply isn’t the best fit for me (and perhaps for you, too). What can be a good idea in theory isn’t always the best in practice, and, oftentimes, you have to try it to find out. I found that keeping some of my writing behind a paywall felt creatively restrictive to me and actually made my work feel less simple, flowing, and delightful (if you’ve been following me for any length of time, you know my aspiration for life is simplicity).
I also found that having tiers of paid and unpaid subscribers felt like separation to me, instead of inclusion. While checking in with myself about this, I was reminded that inspiration, welcome, gathering, and inclusion have been foundational to my work since I began writing in 2007, and I don’t want that to change. I want you here, all of you, for all of it. All of you, your friends, and their friends, with my posts available to everyone. This feels right and good and like a deep, deep breath.
And for you, an unexpected delight.
It’s good to be back! And, if you’re wondering, and would like to, the very best way you can support my work is by sharing it with anyone and everyone. Thank you.
*Paid subscribers should have received an email this week saying that all paid subscriptions have been paused. You should not be charged going forward.
Moments Lately
Reading Lately
Running Barefoot - Another delightful read by Amy Harmon (you may remember how much I loved A Girl Called Samson). It’s a story about a small town girl and a Native American boy and how the ties formed between them on their shared school bus seat were never lost. This was the light summer read that I needed, yet it delivered depth and insight into human frailty and strength, loss and love.
Eating Lately
Because it’s now August and sweet corn will be filling farm stands, I must give you this recipe. Promise you’ll make it at every opportunity.
Grilled Corn Salad
1 pint grape or cherry tomatoes
1 ripe avocado
6 ears of fresh sweet corn on the cob
1/4 cup fresh cilantro, chopped
Honey Lime Dressing
Juice of 1 lime
3 tablespoons olive oil
1 tablespoon honey
1 clove garlic, minced
Dash of cayenne pepper
Salt and pepper to taste
Grill husked corn over medium heat for 10 minutes, turning every few minutes. (Or alternatively, soak ears of corn with the husks still on, in a sink of cold water for 20 minutes, then grill (will husks in place) for 10 min, turning every few minutes. Cool slightly, then shuck the corn.) Cut the corn kernals from the cobs, then scrape the cob with the blade of the knife into a large bowl to capture the juices left behind. Set aside to cool. Slice the tomatoes in half, dice the avocado, and chop the cilantro. Add these to the bowl with the corn and juice. Put all the dressing ingredients together in a jar with a tight fitting lid and shake vigorously. Pour the dressing over the salad and stir to combine. Set aside to marinate for 30 min. Serve chilled or at room temperature.
Favorites Lately
Replaced my ancient pair (I expect these to last just as long)
Sunflowers, planted by the birds
Vanilla extract as bug repellent (I’ve yet to try, but Alice says it works amazing well! And you can make your own!)
Speaking of Alice, this is the best bathroom spray (one bottle has lasted us years!)
OH! I am SO so glad for your choice. While I would like to support all that I love, I cannot financially do so. I have very much missed your posts. The presence and spirituality expressed in your way of life and of work bring me joy and greater conscious contact with that which means most to me. Thank you so very very much and so grateful to be able to read you again!
Thank you so much. I so enjoy reading your posts. I have felt like I missed so much since I was not able to be a paid subscriber. I am going to share with my granddaughter. I know she will enjoy reading you as much as I do.