Thoughts about writing, and the universe.
One more post about my time in Montana--I can't not write about this. On one of the last days of our visit, we drove along the Beartooth Pass from Montana into Wyoming, on the route that leads to Yellowstone National Park. The mountain road twisted past colossal scree slopes, crisscrossed the still visible paths of... 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 