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Warbling up great canyons, drifting over silent spaces of time. When the moon fills, when the night is soft, loon laughter transforms...

In the pale first reflection, daylight approaches. it comes to us quietly, slow and soft. It wakes us from shadow, it prods us with rude...

We search the margins of the world for a returning voice. We ply, in the deepest parts of the night, for starships to carry us, born upon...

Who knows where I have travelled, who can tell where I have been? I’ve seen the lodges watching west, I’ve been to continents then...

We are a band of brothers, a fleet of sisters and mothers, fellow-travellers into the dense thicket of lakes and streams, portages...

A great weight we can carry if we only think about what might or could occur. Do you do this with situations such as we are facing right...

Marigolds first appear in the ditches, far before the summer crowd. They are the first to signal the birth of spring. They lie in low...

Only a mountain has lived long enough to listen objectively to the howl of a wolf. A Sand County Almanac Aldo Leopold It is becoming...

In the distance the thunder but the mosquitoes are swarming. Life implodes. From out of the shadows and swampy places, they ferry and...

In this particular time, we need templates from what has gone on before. I turn to Ernest Shackleton. In January 1915, his ship was...