Fruit Box Castles: Poems From a Peach Rancher’s Daughter and Living through a Pandemic!.
Lately, I wake up at 3 a.m. my heart pounding from a nightmare. I wake and remember the virus. Slowly my heart-rate slows and I am reassured with my husband lying next to me, the cat at my feet and the dog curled up between us. But I find being outdoors seems to center me the most. I am lucky to be in California with its relatively calm weather. Sinking my hands and boots in the mud, reaching for the great mother as we did as children to our mothers, and surrogates is where I find my grounding (no pun intended). I started spring by making piles of winter's remnants for mulch, then, sat with the garden observing. What has made it through the winter and what was offered? What has sprung up from the seeds of fall? I have so many annuals all volunteers.
After this sitting quietly and observing, I began turning over the soil, my thoughts, amending, restoring, planting, transplanting, and caring. Here in the garden life continues. Spring has brought much needed rain to California and so much flora has awakened. I spy my first Ladybug, and am amazed at the ingenuity of the worm burrowing into the safety of the earth. Here I dwell with the bird song of jays, sparrows, finches, mourning doves, hawks and crows. Here the garden squirrels appear for their handouts of walnuts. Here I am safe, warmed by blankets of sun on my back, and baptisms of rain. I have no profound insights, but am profoundly grateful to the garden, to the Mother earth for her continuity that is larger than my human understanding, grateful that despite the human suffering she offers hope and purpose opening her arms to us.
So, whether, you take a walk, sit on your porch, rooftop, yard, or take a ride on your bike get out and commune with nature and of course wear a mask.
Here are two of my poems appearing in my book:
Here are some words of praise for my new book from poets you may know.