Don’t Ask, Walk!
October 19, 2015
Handsome Paths
June 12, 2014
“And what a dynamic, handsome object is a path!”
— Gaston Bachelard, The Poetics of Space: The Classical Look at How We Experience Places
I haven’t been out for a wilderness hike yet this year, but I have been enjoying some urban walks. I love to go out with an open outlook and see what interesting things cross my path. These pictures were taken on a recent outing to Bainbridge Island. I couldn’t resist following this enticing green path down from the commercial center to the water. And I was rewarded with a rare glimpse of a hummingbird!
Life as a Time of Approaching
April 26, 2014
National Poetry Month. 26
“I call ‘poet’ any writing being who sets out on this path, in quest of what I call the second innocence, the one that comes after knowing, the one that no longer knows, the one that knows how not to know.
I call ‘poet’ any writer, philosopher, author of plays, dreamer, producer of dreams, who uses life as a time of ‘approaching.'”
— Helene Cixous, “Coming to Writing” and Other Essays
It’s Little I Care
April 23, 2014
The siren call of spring . . .
“It’s little I care what path I take
And where it leads it’s little I care,
But out of this house, lest my heart break,
I must go, and off somewhere.”
— Edna St. Vincent Millay
Finding Poetry in the Woods
March 18, 2014
“You cannot find what the poets find in the woods until you take the poet’s heart to the woods. He sees nature through a colored glass, sees it truthfully, but with an indescribable charm added, the aureole of the spirit. A tree, a cloud, a bird, a sunset, have no hidden meaning that the art of the poet is to unlock for us. Every poet shall interpret them differently, and interpret them rightly, because the soul is infinite.”
— John Burroughs, Pepacton
I just learned about this little forest, Llandover Woods, in north Seattle, not too far from the Dunn Gardens, and I spent an hour walking its groomed trail. Splotchy bark, hanging moss, ferns, bare trees. A quiet spot in the city. Great discovery.
Frosty Mornings, the Gelid World
January 5, 2014
“How glorious the perfect stillness and peace of the winter landscape.”
— Henry David Thoreau, from Winter: The Writings of Henry David Thoreau, vol. 8, December 31, 1854
“We must go out and re-ally ourselves to Nature every day. We must make root, send out some little fibre at least, even every winter day. . . . Staying in the house breeds a sort of insanity always.”
— Henry David Thoreau, from Winter: The Writings of Henry David Thoreau, vol. 8, December 29, 1856
I took Thoreau’s advice and walked around Green Lake on this frosty January morning. It was crisp and clear. I saw three great blue herons, a bald eagle perched in a tree, honking Canada geese, foraging ducks, and other Seattleites out to enjoy the fresh air.
Tree-Watching and Listening Project: The Music of Trees
October 25, 2012
I made a special visit to the Washington Park Arboretum yesterday to experience Paths II: The Music of Trees, a series of seven sound installations by composer Abby Aresty. She is a doctoral candidate at the University of Washington, and this outdoor music project is her dissertation. She recorded natural sounds at these sites in different seasons, and then used them in compositions, which are broadcast in three-hour “concerts” on Wednesdays and Saturdays in October. You can read more about this remarkable project in this Seattle Times article.
I didn’t want the month to pass without checking out this unusual art project. Armed with a map from the Visitor’s Center, I strolled the paths looking for the seven listening sites. As always, I enjoyed wandering among the many tall trees of the arboretum. And the unique soundscapes made this visit especially memorable.

“Twisted things continue to make creaking contortions.” (Gaston Bachelard). At Site 1, twisted plastic tubing becomes “mutant” branches.

Site 6 used hanging sculptures like wind chimes, and the music incorporated the sounds of falling leaves.
Scarlet and Yellow, Golden and Brown
October 24, 2012
Scarlet and yellow,
Golden and brown,
Winds of October
Blow all the leaves down.
Tear from the branches
Their curtains and spread
Carpets of color
Beneath them instead.
Glittering with rain
Or ablaze in the sun,
Falling in showers
Or dropped one by one.
Scarlet and yellow,
Golden and brown,
Winds of October
Blow the leaves down.
As far as I know, this is one of the few times that I am repeating a poem that I have previously posted on this blog! I still can’t find the author of this poem, which I first read in a Waldorf school parenting class. It certainly fits the landscape around Green Lake this week.
A Prairie of Queen Anne’s Lace at the Union Bay Natural Area
August 9, 2012
The Union Bay Natural Area is a calming oasis in the heart of urban Seattle. It’s adjacent to the Center for Urban Horticulture and the Elisabeth C. Miller Library. The looped trail takes you past a wet prairie studded with Queen Anne’s lace and cornflower-blue chicory. There’s a pond, the shoreline of Lake Washington, lily pads and cattails.