The song of Lammas sounds a note of melancholy as summer wanes. The faint coolness on the breeze, the shortening days … The image of the scythe, and the reaper who wields it, accompanies this time of year.
If my collection of art can be said to include a piece for Lammas, this would be it, which I named according to its first line, The Fields are Full. … In 1996, I had begun to free up my calligraphy.
I am deep in the thickets of reworking my novel…The invisible world offers me comfort and encouragement by curious synchronicities and wild visitations, and in a stroke of good fortune, the perfect book of writing wisdom at just the right time.
Early in June, just past dawn, this young red-tailed hawk perched on the fence outside my writing room door for a good long while.