Category: essay

Naw’leans Revisited

typewriter lit by neon

It was a return trip, a bucket list type of thing. My memories had faded of this city, home of a favorite author, full of amazing architecture and wonderful food. A steamboat sung and paddled on the Mississippi, memories of the riverbank quickly replaced…

Fireweed

Equinox Series graphic

You never notice it until the middle of summer, when the magenta flower-spikes suddenly crowd every roadside and wasteland…once they have outgrown grass and nettles, and stand tall above the lesser whites and yellows of daisies, dandelions, clovers. In Britain we call it rosebay…

Fossils

Equinox Series graphic

Out the back road of Charlestown, down a steep hill, across a disused railway, around a rough-brambled coastline and under the line of high tide: layers of grey mudstone, semi-eroded, open to the touch and tell their story. Some layers say little. Others retain…

Four Leafed Clover

stylized overhead photo of a woodland trail

Three, they say, is the largest number you’ll never need to count. Your eyes decide the Threeness or Unthreeness of things at a glance, along with Twoness, Oneness, Zeroality. Fourness and everything above is different, except when patterned like the spots on ladybirds and…

Folded Field Notes: NOCTURNAL

empty chair on deck looking up at stars

Folded Field Notes is an interactive column that explores a new ecological topic each fortnight — part writing challenge, part citizen science project — led by alternating guides with assistance from editor & ecologist JS Graustein. Will you join us? TODAY’S TOPIC : Nocturnal…

Sunset Selection

Solstice Series Selection badge

The Blizzard and Syrian Wisdom On a mid-March Monday in 2003, my students were restless with rumors of storm, thrilled that school might close on days scheduled for standardized testing, events they dread more than final exams or flu shots. Robot calls came Tuesday…

Beached Whale

abstract of water rushing over a rock that looks like a skull

She made a mistake, and died from it, sinking into the spongy, bubbling sand on the Atlantic shore of Colonsay. Careless, injured or impaired, old or tired, she came inshore too far and lost the tide, hemmed in between dune and sandbank and outcropping…

Insect

I am an insect, carapaced, visor-faced and joyful. Smaller than other travellers, I fight the air’s viscosity and feel its every rip and eddy, its waves of coolness under trees and its warmth over sunlit fields and tarmac. You hear me before you see…

If You Had Eyes

the bumpy texture of old stump pith

If you had eyes, you would stare slowly, very slowly, upwards at the many shades of green and the single blue. Even without eyes, you sense the blue and reach towards it. You expand in the warmth and drink in air and light. These…

Folded Field Notes: TRANSITION

Folded Field Notes : Join our community writing project exploring the ecological theme of “transition.”