Thoughts about writing, and the universe.
Since my last post two weeks ago, we finished term, we packed, we journeyed down to Bergen and over the ocean, eight time zones across to Billings, Montana, visiting my husband's parents. Travel went smoothly, but after a few days here, I began running a fever. I tested positive for Covid-19. For the last few... Continue Reading →
In the first years of our relationship, my husband and I went camping several times, and these were ambitious, multi-day, backpacking-style trips. We were bold. We were excited to traverse difficult terrains, to boil wild rice for forty-five minutes in the rain unsure whether it would ever finish cooking, to brave the mosquitoes and ticks... Continue Reading →
It was two and a half years ago that I made my first ever Words Like Trees post, written here in Billings at Christmastime. A three hour drive to Bergen, followed by eighteen hours of airport-hopping, and we reached Billings this time in its brilliant summer heat. Because of the pandemic, we haven't come here... Continue Reading →
America has been troubling. The consumer push is thicker than I ever remember, the pressure to buy big and often and right now. Things are far larger than they need to be. It's a difficult relationship, I think, that I've got to my home country. For moments I wish I had been born somewhere else.... Continue Reading →
The land here is dry. The leafy tendrils I saw from the airplane, riverbeds, I imagined, are really more of folds in the rock, like the skin of a naked cat around the haunches. Earth muscles, they make me think of. It's December, and a bit of early winter snow remains , but mostly it... Continue Reading →
Words like trees 