A Psalm of David, when he was in the Wilderness of Judah. O God, you are my God, I seek you,    my soul thirsts for you; my flesh faints for you,    as in a dry and weary land where there is no water. –Psalm 63:1, NRSV This photograph was made in the same place as the one published with #AdventWord #Breathe. This very spot is now covered with lush greed growth. Twelve years have passed. The psalmists prayer is answered. Creation regenerates.

Song of Songs I belong to my love,  and his desire is for me. Come, my love, let us go to the fields. We will spend the night in the villages, and in the early morning we go to the vineyards. We will see if the vines are budding, if their blossoms are opening, if the pomegranate trees are in flower. Then I will give you  the gift of my love. The mandrakes yield their fragrance, the most exquisite fruits are at our doors; the new as well as the old, I have stored them for you, my love. –New…

Fifty-eight thousand dog tags, one for each U.S. soldier who died in the Vietnam War. I did not know any of them. All were strangers to me. Yet standing below this shimmering array listening to them tinkle in the gentle movement of air from the Chicago Public Library’s giant air-handling system, I thought of the human stories cut short–not only those of these soldiers but of ALL–their soldiers, civilians; men, women and children–cut down by the war I remember well. Who is a stranger? In the heat of conflict, in the fears generated by political rhetoric, lots of people can…

Every wilderness is home to some community of creatures living in complex webs of relationship with each other and the environment, whatever its features. What is alien and remote to humankind is familiar and intimate to them. Being keenly aware of that makes us better visitors in their home. We have much to gain from going into the wilderness. If we do it with mindful humility, we will learn a great deal, not only about the wilderness and the creatures who call it home, but about ourselves. Wilderness is not only “out there,” but also “in here.” We all have…

Excerpt from Wild Geese Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air, are heading home again. Whoever you are, no matter how lonely, the world offers itself to your imagination, calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting – over and over announcing your place in the family of things. –Mary Oliver An anhinga is not a wild goose, of course, but its guttural call sounding over the bayou pulls me in every time. I snuck up on this one in my kayak. Both I and another woman I know have had conversations with our deceased…