These Hands

These dry, cracked, and scarred hands seem to stare back with weary eyes. They are overworked from following my restless lead. I have kept them busy storing up for my future. They’ve been gathering and keeping, and it all keeps slipping through my fingers. In their life of toil, these hands have hurt and theyContinue reading “These Hands”

Sometimes, Inside is Your Best Side

Yesterday—during the first day of spring in the Northern Hemisphere—I was still by the fireplace, overflowing with gratitude for the warmth and shelter in this sustained “winter,” for solitude, for health. I listened to the wind cut through the windows causing eerie whistling and deep-bellied growls. I watched the pines dance to the wind’s heavy-metal song. Then I went outside for aContinue reading “Sometimes, Inside is Your Best Side”

Meditation for Anxiety

In the depth of winter, it’s been difficult to imagine the lush growth of spring. I’m not sure if you’ve been experiencing this as well where you are, but in Montana, the weight of the snow and the deep dark is pressing in on us. Through each outside season over the last year and aContinue reading “Meditation for Anxiety”

The Forest School

Anichka, a five-year-old, smiles sweetly and grabs my frozen hand, leading me toward a tiny house heated by a wood-fire. Before I open the small door, another child named Fafa hands me a soft broom and points to Anichka’s—and his own—dirt-and snow-caked clothes. My stiff hands grasp ahold of the broom and they both giggle asContinue reading “The Forest School”

Dear Friend

A Poem

El Agua

Outside, the summer wind breathes through the lush and bursting forest, and inside, a cold breeze chills even safely-buried roots. Overgrown stinging nettle stings my legs with each step, stabs my tongue with each word. I am left speechless in my own skin. What happened to the good stories? Life weaving braids of gratitude andContinue reading “El Agua”

Once

A Poem

Ang Ilog

A Poem

Celestial Slacks

As our crags thaw out, climbers shed a few puffy layers in preparation for their warmer-weather rock projects—their native climbing pants accompanying them in both successes and failures. Since the alignment of the stars and planets aren’t always a reliable source to forecast adventures, we turned to these celestial slacks for this season’s climbing horoscopes.Continue reading “Celestial Slacks”

Are We Here Yet?

A beautiful blast of cool mountain wind invades the cabin as I open the window. My lumbar spine is sore from sitting so long. I feel my stomach draping over the seatbelt from snacking all day. The hair dancing around my face tangles around itself in a big nest. Sometimes I wish we were justContinue reading “Are We Here Yet?”