Wonder & Dust
exploring the connections between spiritual and creative practice
The Joining
From the night’s stormy heavens a bolt of lightning shatters the dark. Spiralling on the Earth, a great black snake absorbs the electricity and disperses it around her body in…
Medicine Women Tend to Grief
It’s Sunday and I have to slow down. It’s been go, go, go all week, despite the rain, and it will be go, go, go all next week too. And…
Feral Narratives
Trigger Warning: This post discusses suicide. You can listen to my reading of this post here: Once upon a summer moon, a doe stepped through the green shadows of the…
★ Of Wood Thrushes and Trilliums
The wood thrushes have returned, embroidering the morning soundscape with their wavering flutesong and soft rattles. Dusk is a concert of frog song. Breezes whisper through the velvet of new…
Night Swim With the New Moon
We went for a night swim in the river, with only a candle tucked in our pockets. The path was dark, as it meandered through the forest, down to the…
The Golden Path
The mountains are woven with trails, and many of them are secret. Some of them go to secret places, and you might need a guide to take you along these trails, because…
The Grief Hedge, the Beautyway
I want to hate them. The big machines. They are not people, they are not alive, and so it would be easy to hate them. I think of all the…