Hands

Dear Reader, I hope all of you are finding some good in this surreality we are living in. I don't know about you, but I have come to appreciate this time to press pause, take a deep breath, reflect, write, read, and connect with family and friends (over various virtual platforms). I've gotten more fresh …

the day before snow

A devil's club graveyard all that remains, bones of a mighty clubbed fortress reduced to small brown skeletons, silent, still scaffolds of what once was. This is how you say madrugada in English– the coldest, darkest, undead hour when spirits roam the earth, right before the first snow:  the rainforest so dry and quiet bones and shapes, negative space, …