The Journey

The question on the page stops me and I place the book on my lap, reflecting on a prayer whispered earlier as dawn etched the clouds hovering over the jagged peaks of the Catalina Mountains. The question, posed to author BettyClare Moffatt in her book, Soulwork:...

Her posture defies the fragility of glass defining her structure. One hand stretches to the skies, the other she plants firmly on her hip. The fire red of passion bleeds with the sunshine of hope, a current of energy flowing through the solid base of her body. Six...

My heart was pounding beneath a rain coat crushed against my body by a stiff lifejacket zipped firmly from waist to neck. Sheets of rain engulfed me as I attempted to keep the sailboat pointed into the wind, to keep gale force winds from grabbing the giant mainsail...

If you are a Michigan resident, would you take a moment to consider signing a petition you will find at www.tinyurl.com/SaugatuckDunes ? The Michigan Department of Environmental Quality (MDEQ) is currently considering a wetlands fill permit needed to...

Several years ago I spoke with my Congressman about the need to fund the Great Lakes Restoration Initiative. He told me I was the only one who ever contacted him about the Great Lakes. “Jobs,” he said. “All I hear about is the need for jobs.” To him I was a flyer. A...

I stand before Lake Michigan listening to the roar of waves crashing wildly against the sand. It has been days since she was calm, as if she knows of the recent recommendation made by the U.S. House of Representatives Subcommittee to slash the funding for the Great...

It was my grandmother, a woman known as “Mom,” who first taught me the meaning of family. A widower since her youngest twins were just shy of eleven, she asked her seven children to gather after World War II to celebrate the safe return of her sons. It became...

Standing in the bow of our sailboat, I stare at the murky waters of Lake Michigan. It has been weeks since torrential rains overwhelmed antiquated sewage systems, spilling billions of gallons of raw sewage into this lake; since swollen rivers and creeks flushed...

Two women walk slowly as the Arizona sun casts morning shadows across the desert. The elder woman tucks her hand tightly around the arm of the other. Perhaps for balance. Perhaps for intimacy. Perhaps both. They speak softly, heads together as if sharing their deepest...

Next week it will be five years since I lay on the floor of the frozen earth, teeth chattering, eyes wide, ears alert as I listened to icy winds whistle through the empty branches overhead. In the darkness my body trembled, partially because of April’s arctic air...

“Make yourself look large.”  I glance at my 5’5” frame, a body shaped by the lingering longings of an anorexic adolescence. “Stand your ground. Do not run.” But I am a runner. It is what I do best. “Wave your arms. Shout. Throw rocks.” Throw rocks? If survival depends...

While wildflowers teach me to pause and be present, the shy desert birds persuade me to tiptoe silently along prickly paths so I might spot the feathered travelers darting among the thorny branches of an ocotillo, scurrying under the scrub of a creosote, burying...