Anubis Bard

The girl was part of the night  except for eye whites and smile teeth and she said to my son softly, "Porter, for you." G...

Porter was in a thoughtful mood the other  night  and wrote a poem he called  yin yang : A sign of peace? A sign of love? The white a f...

As the cultural anthropologist in a consulting team that works for non-profit clients, I find myself rambling across a mind-boggling array...

Nico sculpted a wood frog The living ones, we hear chuckling in the trees.

A crack-flash of lightning in the woods early this morning made Monica yelp, wrung a curse of out Porter, and brought Nico pattering down ...

This man, like all other men, and women too, (at least the ones not lunatic nor dying) needed a future to take with him into his Tuesday m...

Porter says he wants to be an engineer – especially if engineering students don’t have to take as many English classes.  As I was writing ...

I was talking with friends about paths not taken.  It’s not really that I think of life in terms of Frost’s roads diverging in a wood.  The...

Green currants. And Monica in her garden. A Swallowtail visits the hummingbird feeder. t.

Growing up in Pennsylvania, I remember that the dairy herds usually had a handful of Jersey or Guernsey cows in them to give flavor and bu...

Most mornings these days Monica has been teaching groups of schoolkids down at the Nature Center. Here she is  explaining some pond biolo...

Another conservative morality scold bit the dust when Indiana Congressman Mark Souder, staunch proponent of "family values," res...

I dug up and tore out plants today -- vetch, bittersweet, daffodils, orchard grass, green briar.  And I planted other ones -- wild ginger,...

Our Food System is Altering Children's Brains A  new study  has been published in the June issue of Pediatrics showing a correlation b...

Sunday margaritas in the hammock.   Gettin' ready for Unitarian Jihad.

On May 5th, Denver's 5-year old daughter, Maybelle, said,  "it's always a little chilly when I walk to school in the morn...

In a cafe in Westerly,  I was  slowly carving away at a waffle that was crisp and buried in strawberries, blueberries and fresh-whipped cr...

Foggy morning in the woods We listen to the songs of scarlet tanagers, orioles, warblers Wary ovenbirds A crying osprey. Huckleb...