Category: Uncategorized (page 1 of 1)

It’s been two months since I last tasted sugar.

I never realized how powerful it was. How deep…It’s like a bloodstream through the land. The earth has a natural sugar system that flows  in streams and tributaries and pools. The trees pull it up through their millions of roots. Any creature will know of the taste in sweet new grass and shoots,  in dried berries in the fall. Water tastes sweet. There is a balance of how much will sustain the earth, and how much will flood it. Read more

• You can hear the ultra-sonic mice repellant devices in people’s houses and must unplug them.
• You are seriously distracted by flies.
• You try to avoid hitting frogs while driving on a rainy night. (Impossible to save the moths…)
• You are irritated by a car alarm miles away.
• You are filled with remorse if you accidentally step on an insect.
• You can feel the pain of animals and humans
• You can’t read or watch the news without feeling deeply disturbed.
• You are moved to tears by the colour of the sky, lulled by certain winds, soothed by singing crickets.
• You are aware of of everything in a room while focussing on a specific task.
• You can feel electricity bristling in the walls.
• You are aware of someone’s deeper feelings while talking about the weather.
• You feel alone in a crowd.
• You feel grating noises on your skin.
• The sound of a banging door sends electrical charges through you.
• You feel weather in your moods.
• You sometimes feel like an alien.
• You feel at peace alone, in nature.
• You sense that time is inherently slow and subtle
• You sense that everything is one.

It’s been three months since I tasted sugar. I no longer feel such a strong compulsion for it. Or, there is a border now between us, like a strand between two places. I can feel it there, more a thought than a yearning. Read more

I once lived in a little blue cabin. It was one of the happiest times in my life. Now I’m looking at the past from the other side of the fence, and I feel like I’m in a museum. I can see the red oil lantern hanging on the right side of the green door, and the wreath hanging on the left side with the piece of deer antler stuck in it,  the long eavestrough pipe on an angle under the window on the north wall, the balcony at the back to the east, and underneath where I kept my wood and hung my tobacco to dry. I see the juniper bushes and the old white plastic chairs on the grass, and the road where I drove up, covered in orange pine needles, and where I used to throw sticks for Ti-loup and Bee. No one lives there. Ti-loup is dead, and Bee is an old border collie with grey hairs. She does not roam the way she used to.  Read more