Books, Writing, & The Cozy Life
This week we learned about a mass grave site with the remains of at least 215 children, some as young as 3 years old, at a boarding school for Indigenous children. I was emailing a dear friend about this on Monday night, started reading a Mary Oliver collection when I crawled into bed shortly after,... Continue Reading →
On Sundays I try to share a few lines of poetry that caught my attention. I'm new to the world of poetry and these Sunday posts ensure I read a few poems every week. Here's one I encountered in a book of Mary Oliver essays this week: Softest of Mornings Softest of mornings, hello. And... Continue Reading →
Oh, friends. I have some sad news to report: I finished my Wendell Berry book of poetry. I gasped when I got to the end and hadn't realized that I never wanted it to be over! So it feels fitting to share this poem with you today: Once there was nothing,not even darkness,not even silence,not... Continue Reading →
Happy Sunday. I'm here to share a few beautiful words from Wendell Berry. I'm still on a spring flower kick and, luckily, so is he: A man who loves the treeswalks among them on a dark dayfor the solace he has taken alwaysfrom the company of his elders,and suddenly he seessuch a grace as in... Continue Reading →
I'm in a particular good patch of poems in my Wendell Berry book and had a difficult time picking one to share with you today. But this felt right: At the woods' edge, suddenlythe air around him was perfumedwith the scent of wild plum flowers.The whitened trees were accompaniedby several redbuds also in bloom,equally beautiful,... Continue Reading →
Happy Sunday, friends. I'm back to day with another Wendell Berry poem - one that feels perfect for an early Spring day during a season in which we're all in desperate need of flowers. A man is walking in a fieldand everywhere at his feetin the short grass of Aprilthe small purple violets are in... Continue Reading →
I'm back today to celebrate National Poetry Month! I have a handful of blogger friends who are sharing poetry on Thursdays this month (Kat, Sarah, Bonny, and Kym) and this week they wrote about new beginnings. I'm following their lead and sharing two short Wendell Berry poems about Spring. Can I see the buds that... Continue Reading →
I've always been hesitant to read poetry. I don't know enough about how poems are built to really understand the intricacies poets pour into their work, so I've always felt like I was missing most of what's happening. But I've been working hard to read more poetry over the last couple of years and have... Continue Reading →
How does Wendell Berry know what to say? This is from 2004: If we have become a people incapableof thought, then the brute-thoughtof mere power and mere greedwill think for us. If we have become incapableof denying ourselves anything,then all that we have will be taken from us. If we have no compassion, we will... Continue Reading →
Wendell Berry continues to sustain me. It is late November, Thanksgiving,and the slow rain falls as all dayit has fallen. The mists driftin the treetops along Camp Branch.The ewe flock grazes the green slopeas in a dream of a paintingby Samuel Palmer. There is no wind.It is completely quiet. From the distancecomes only the sound... Continue Reading →
The Cozy Burrow 