by mary1988 | Mar 17, 2024 | 2024
In January, I posted a story about finding shade for one of Mother and my favorite benches. Situated on the Heinz Walkway overlooking Lake Macatawa, the west-facing bench was the only bench protected from the afternoon sun. We called it “Cottonwood Corner,” a place of...
by mary1988 | Mar 11, 2024 | 2024
It is thought she died of post-release mortality, her 13-foot long, 1500-pound body traumatized by what happened after the hook was firmly embedded in her jaw. I suspect the great white would have preferred to die a natural death; not to have been dumped at water’s...
by mary1988 | Mar 4, 2024 | 2024
Abruptly, the asphalt ends,the tires dust up dirt and stonesending the white bug of a rental carbumping along a one-lane trackthreading through plywood shacksthat remind him of Deliverance.Ahead, the path is swallowed by a stream. No place to turn around. Google maps...
by mary1988 | Feb 26, 2024 | 2024
By Mary McKSchmidt It was a whimsical thought,the kind that driftslike a low-hanging cloudover a marginal seastill reelingfrom last night’s storm;the kind thatdemands attention–like the lingering wavescurling, crashing, flatteningthe powdery white sandalongside...
by mary1988 | Feb 19, 2024 | 2024
Photographed at the Gulf Islands National Seashore By Mary McKSchmidt When she said she wanted to hike the planet, he saidafter an hour all trees lookthe same; to which she said the wildflowers, butterfliesand birds feed my spirit; to which he...
