Image by Holly Ordway

Signs of Life: Binsey Poplars

One of the saddest, most moving poems of man’s wanton destruction of natural beauty is Gerard Manley Hopkins’ “Binsey Poplars.” These now-famous trees had lined the River Thames as it passes by the village of Binsey, in Oxfordshire, but in 1879, they were cut down – a sorry blow indeed: My aspens dear, whose airy…

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Signs of Life

We’re a hardy lot here in New England. Last week we saw blizzard, “historic” snowfall, then another foot (meh, what’s 12 inches after 3 feet?), mixed with rain, freezing rain, and sleet. They’re talking about more to come tomorrow. Lovely. We hunker down. We make do. Like The Inside Chance, the first poem in Marge…

Image by Bethany Rohde

Why so eager for a new year?

By Bethany Rohde I’ve been collecting these water pockets of new histories Distilling cold fronts into a leather-bound canteen A predominant wind has exposed my skin here in the trampled grass A single downward stroke. ******* A writer from the great state of Washington, Bethany Rohde received her BA in English Studies from Western Washington…

Image by Becka Choat

For the Future

On January 1, Doug pointed out to us that we had just been presented with 365 ‘unwritten squares of opportunity.’ I don’t think it matters all that much whether we take those squares to be blocks on our calendars, blank pages in our notebooks or photo albums, or leaves in the ‘book of our lives.’…

Image by Crystal Hurd

New Year, Old Habits

By Crystal Hurd The winter winds are blowing outside, making a few old leaves tumble over themselves. Remnants of an expired year. Watch as they slowly exit, like refuse being swept by Nature’s broom, out of your vision. There is something beautiful and cathartic about it. The old year scurrying away as the new year…