Let’s start with the biggest question on everyone’s minds. The moles are still tunneling. I don’t want to talk about it. Sunrise On Heave, circa 2020 On a more positive springtime note, the birds are going wild out there. The Robin is busy setting up camp high in the maple outside my bedroom window. An... Continue Reading →

Life and death and life again

"Within the heart are unfathomable depths. It is not a small vessel: and yet dragons and lions live there, and there are poisonous creatures and all the treasures of wickedness; rough, uneven paths are there, and gaping chasms. There, likewise, is God, there are the angels, there life and the Kingdom, there light and the... Continue Reading →

Wearing out.

The fan attached to our bargain model fireplace unit is dying. It’s a small miracle that it has gotten us this far, and it’ll be a large one if it fires up this fall when we call it back into service. You know how things on the brink of death get after a season of... Continue Reading →

Another Return

Last week, we were marveling - the kids and I - at our own dependence upon the stream of seasons we are so blessed to travel upon in Wisconsin. It was a sunny Wednesday evening, just crisp enough to confront any delusions of true spring, but plenty warm to awake in us that primal giving... Continue Reading →

You can’t go back

The first greenery has erupted on our land. Many of our treefolk currently sport buds so swollen with springtime excitement that their seams are near to bursting, but they don't dare let go. Many more (the wise ones, I suspect), have abstained from sending their life force out to their tips in earnest, choosing rather... Continue Reading →

The Letting Goes


Again, Cast Light leaves me no choice but to reblog. What an excellent steward of the gift of words. Cast on…

Cast Light

“Sometimes I go about with pity for myself and all the while Great Winds are carrying me across the sky.” – Ojibway saying

On the days that don’t make sense, the ones that chip away at our core, rather our ego, we are being broken and remolded for something new. A slow releasing of what’s not important anymore, the arm wrestle of growth, a series of letting goes.

And in those moments of the mundane, we can let feelings and moods rise to the top and move through them to finish what’s been started. And in the midst of the dry days, the hollow is transforming into the hallowed. Faith holds our hand to the other side and gratitude shines the light of what is ours here and now.

Flowers bloom. The sun rises. Easter always comes.

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