Author Archives: Wizard Woodsy

I don’t think I was afraid of the dark when I was young, at least not to the extent of leaving the light on. I was a country kid, playing outside as late as I could. I chased fireflies all summer and spent meteor shower hours on a quilt, staring expectantly at the dark sky.Continue reading “Afraid of the Dark”

I never dreamt I would cry over mushrooms. What a silly thing. And yet tonight, with the first treasures of the season protected in my hand, my heart broke a little more and tears smeared my sight. We are an outdoorsy family and mushrooming is a favorite activity—a sure sign of spring and fun. TimeContinue reading “It’s Just a Little Fungus”

It wasn’t really about the meeting, just what the meeting prevented. Pool time. Two classes. Still, a commitment is a commitment. I’d go to the meeting and miss the pool classes. I’d be a grown up. Short weeks often seem the longest, and the start of this week was a harbinger of strangeness. Yesterday’s rampantContinue reading “Therapy”

The dancing trees — one young, sturdy, and strong with life; the other old, bare, and proud, even in death. Life and death, locked in an embrace. Life and death, joined in step. I’m not a dancer. Shocking, I know. Yet here I am, forced to dance with death in my life. I didn’t signContinue reading “Dance”

One of the weekly prompts from the past several weeks was “The hardest thing I ever did . . . ” That prompt is still hanging out in the drafts folder; it’s just too much. Too depressing. I revisit the prompt now and then, revise a line or two, add a bit, then save itContinue reading “In the First Place”

I love a photo with the sun peeking through. Maybe it’s cliché, but I love it. My magnolia is perfectly placed (complete fluke); when it’s blooming, the sun lines up just right. I have a plethora of backlit, glowy magnolia photos and I guarantee I’ll keep taking them as long as the magnolia and IContinue reading “Magnolia”

Sometimes I offer a snapshot of my day-to-day. Hell—my hour-to-hour or minute-to-minute. This is a snapshot of an ordinary day. Monday, March 29. I was fine all day today. Coming off bizarro homecoming week last week, today was normal-ish. The students were good, classes went fine, drama was minimal. No. Big. Deal. Then I droveContinue reading “*Sirens*”

Consider this my annual homage to sanguinaria canadensis. Bloodroot. My absolute favorite of the wildflowers that grace my yard each spring. They are the first to bloom — a welcome sight as winter fades. They don’t mess around, either; they show up, bloom, hope for pollination, and drop their petals. My little loves have attitude.Continue reading “On Bloodroot”

“Hope” is the thing with feathers –That perches in the soul –And sings the tune without the words –And never stops – at all – ~Emily Dickinson I love Emily Dickinson’s sentiment — hope never leaves, never stops. I want to agree with and believe her concept, and deep down, I think I still do.Continue reading “Bowl of Blessings ~~ Hope”

I haven’t been told to stand up straight since I was a teenager, but these past months have turned me into a slouchy scold; I’m constantly admonishing myself to stand up straight. Shoulders back. Chin up. Back straight. Also, shoulders away from ears. Because my default these days is to lean in, curl forward, tighten,Continue reading “Posture”