autumn
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The call of the cicadas
Waiting, I noticed the midsummer sound of cicadas, their dry rasp foretelling summer’s finale and autumn’s approach, and soon after that, winter. Some find it a sad sound, herald of the season’s ending. I find it mellow comfort: an invitation to rest; to return to the earth, my source; to reground in what is more Continue reading
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The spiders remain
Sheryl and I have made a pilgrimage to Chautauqua Institution almost every summer since we’ve been married, staying a week or two on the grounds to soak in the arts and thoughts and imagination of the place and its people. We talk of going elsewhere some summer, but when the time comes to make reservations Continue reading
The Sauntering Pilgrim 