Earth Sun Moon - T-shirts for Nature Lovers

Sneak Peek at upcoming T-shirt art

2011-01-14T11:44:00.001-08:00

Forest Therapy

2010-12-07T13:42:00.000-08:00

Recently stumbled upon a fun article from The Japan Times. Here's an excerpt:

For stressed-out workers, this may someday be a doctor's prescription: Walk around in the woods.

Scientists in Japan have been learning a lot in recent years about the relaxing effects of forests and trees on mental and physical health. Based on their findings, some local governments are promoting "forest therapy."

You can read the full article here:
http://search.japantimes.co.jp/cgi-bin/nn20080502f1.html

Meanwhile, we in western Pennsylvania are getting our first good snowfall. It's been snowing so steadily that the birds aren't even venturing out to the feeders, and the lavender plants by our drive are nearly buried. Here's what we saw when we went out to cut a Christmas tree:

It's cold, too, but with shoveling to do, and walking to work, I - for one -

Won't stay indoors!

Have a happy and beautiful holiday season. Thanks for everything, from everyone here at Earth Sun Moon Trading Co.

Autumn Beauty

2010-10-25T11:28:00.000-07:00

A photo-journal by Mary Beth

Crows are gone - chipmunks took over

Volunteer sunflower - good chipmunk food!

Garden shed

Restful spot

Wind plays in the grass

Deer munching on wild rose hips

Grey day color

Critter church - varmints welcome!

Migration Opportunities

2010-10-11T13:14:00.000-07:00

Squirrels, field mice and prairie dogs seem to deal with winter pretty much the way people do - put on a warm coat, stockpile food, and stay inside watching Law & Order re-runs on TV. But a staggering number of other animals, from butterflies to caribou, cope with the changing seasons by migrating to more hospitable climates.

Migratory seasons can be extra fun for the nature lover who knows how to keep her eyes open. Even creatures who migrate between (and live in) the extreme northern and southern parts of the globe have to travel through (or over) the parts in the middle!

I've compiled a short list of interesting places to be during the autumn migratory season but, before I get to that, here's a short and simple quiz:

Migrating geese fly in big "V" formations, like an arrow pointing in the direction they are going. If you've seen more than a few migrating flocks, you'll remember that one side of that "V" is always longer than the other. But do you know why? (I'll put the answer at the bottom of this article.)

~ EAST ~
For ogling lots and lots of East-coast migrating birds, the Cape May National Wildlife Refuge seems the place to be:

"The south pointing direction of the peninsula concentrates birds - raptors especially - on Cape May every autumn. Birds flying along the coast find themselves at a dead end, where they stop, rest up, and chow down before hopping the mouth of Delaware Bay. Over 300 species of birds have been recorded in Cape May, more than anywhere north of Florida."

~ CENTRAL ~
Most anyone between North Dakota and Maine, south to Mexico, has a chance to eyeball the great annual Monarch migration. Depending on exactly where you live, the winds, and the year, you may spot half a dozen, or hundreds of Monarch butterflies a day during migratory season.

A neat website called Journey North's Monarch Butterfly Migration Tracking Project invites you to submit your own observation of migrating butterflies. Your report becomes part of the project's larger effort to track Monarch migration, and shows up on their animated real-time migration maps like this:

~WEST ~
A worthy stop along the Great Pacific Flyway (the bird migration rout running from Alaska to Mexico) is the Sacramento Valley in California. The Sacramento Audubon Society organize trips over a sizable area, where they say you can see up to 400 species of birds! Smaller day and even 1/2 day trips are also available, but chances are that, with so many birds around, you could have an enjoyable day just by visiting one of the area's parks or refuges with a friend.

Of course, you don't have to travel to the coast to find migrating birds and butterflies. Just having a bird-feeder or a pond is often all it takes to earn a visit from weary travelers. So, keep your eyes open...

- And don't stay indoors!

PS: Still wondering why one line of the "V" is always longer than the other? It's because there are more geese in one line. ;-)

Back to School Reading

2010-09-10T10:14:00.000-07:00

Well, the days are getting shorter, and even those of us who are long freed from school find our schedules more regimented, our time outdoors more restricted. Don't get me wrong - there's still a lot of time, and a lot to do outside. (You gardeners won't start planting spring bulbs for another couple months!)

But the change of seasons has me thinking about academic-type stuff, and the first things to come to mind are memories of reading Jim Kjelgaard's young adult novels - as many as I could get my hands on.

Kjelgaard grew up in the mountains of north-central Pennsylvania, a very short distance from where I grew up. But he lived years before me, before the hill towns were tamed - or even paved. Hunting and fishing were still a serious means of putting food on the table, and a boy could play hooky to go fishing every day for a week before the teacher called his parents. (I've read that Jim got in real trouble for that one!)

When he grew up, Jim Kjelgaard became a writer, and he wrote mostly stories about boys and dogs, or men and their dogs - making a living on the edge where civilization meets nature. His pages are alive with the sounds, sights and even smells of the outdoors. They also count by now (he wrote many of them in the 1950s) as historical fiction, opening a door into a different, simpler, and more rugged world.

Big Red is probably his best-known book. Although arguably not his magnum opus, it may be the easiest to find in print. If you know a young person in need of a good book, or an older person who would enjoy a light-but-well-written novel, I encourage you to investigate Jim Kjelgaard. You'll be giving more than a book - you'll be giving a chance to fall in love with the crisp autum air that calls us out to the woods or garden.

Earth Sun Moon won't profit in any way from more people reading Jim Kjelgaard, but I think you will, just like I did years ago.

Summer may be over, and you may have some reading to do, but please,

- Don't stay indoors!

Photo Journal - Mary B. visits Alaska (pt 2.)

2010-08-12T07:53:00.000-07:00

View from Ship

Horsetail Falls outside of Valdez

Alaskan Wilderness

Wildflowers

Kettle Lakes (formed by Glaciers)

Alaskan Pipeline outside of Valdez

Beaver Lodge and pond between Denali & Mt. McKinley Lodge

wild Lupine

Wood Carving in Valdez

Birch Trees in Copper River

Dog Sled Team in Copper River

Future Dog Sled Member

Fireweed (wildflower)

White-crowned Sparrow

Sunset from the Ship leaving Vancouver, BC

Photo Journal - Mary B. visits Alaska (pt. 1)

2010-08-11T14:17:00.000-07:00

View from ship - small islands

Harbor Seals in Ketchikan

Mendenhall Glacier

Glacier Calving in Glacier Bay

Iceberg

Humpback Whale in Juneau

Icebergs in Prince William Sound on the way to Valdez

Seagull on Floating Iceberg

"It matters to this one"

2010-07-14T12:39:00.000-07:00

There's an old story about a little boy who was out on the beach after a big storm had washed up scores of starfish. He was throwing them back into the water, saving them from drying out and dying.

A passer-by stopped him. "Son, stop wasting your time. There are more starfish out here than you can ever throw back. You're not going to make a difference."

The boy looked back at the starfish in his hand, then looked the walker in the eye. He said, "It makes a difference to this one," turned, and went back to his work.

In a similar vein, allow me to present the first good news I've heard come out of the gulf region since the deep-water oil well ruptured: a chap with the YouTube handle of "guitarest" is doing what he can - all on his own - to save a few of the gulf's marine natives. On June 30, 2010 he wrote:

I originally set this tank up approx 3 months ago and since then the tank was slowly converted to a salt/fresh water tank so I would be able to catch local fish and keep them in a tank safe from the oil spill.

The tank now includes loads of fish I rescued from areas that might be hit by oil from the BP spill. I have wild shortfin molly's , mosquito fish (or known as guppies), pin fish, speckled trout, crawfish, hermit crab, blue crabs, a rock crab, shrimp, needle fish, and a huge bull frog tadpole.....

I am running a brackish tank and in a month I will have a larger 100 gal tank so these guys can live in a better and not so crowded environment.

Guitarest followed up on July 11 with a video, some pictures and these comments:

Ok its been a few months (since before February) when I started this project. I have gone through three different sized tanks. Sadly a few fish have died in the process of getting this tank up and running and doing what it was purchased for; a attempt to safe a few of our native fish from a death of mans mistake with the Deep Water Oil Rig...

I have let a estimated 30 fish go, and 6 larger blue crabs and the tank finally appears stabilized. I have had to do a estimated 500gal of water changes mostly due to over-crowding in the tank. As you can see the tank does appear to be...stabilized.

A tank to be proud of, indeed. My hat's off to you, sir.

The Shade Path

2010-07-13T13:02:00.000-07:00

This article could also have been titled "What should we do with that grass alley between the house and the sidewalk?"

On the positive side, there were two mature maple trees on that side of the house, and a slope down to the sidewalk, so the house wasn't quite naked, and passers-by weren't actually in the lawn.

On the "challenges" side: two mature trees planted close to a house makes for a very dry, shady spot. Finding plants that thrive under those conditions can be tough. Also, despite the slope, the sidewalk and street are quite close, so creating a feeling of separation would be necessary.

Fencing in the entire property was prohibitively expensive and not quite the feel that we wanted, so we settled on making a garden path. The focal point at one end would be the garden gate into the fenced-in backyard. The other end would open up next to a weeping cherry tree featured in the front yard.

Planting the full length of the path makes a feeling of gentle movement, shepherding one's attention forward, to the next flower, rather than sideways to the street or house. At least, that was the idea.

Our first step was to plant a semi-formal-looking row of "ball" arborvitae just to the outside of the trees.

In retrospect, these might not have been the absolute best choice, since they resent being clipped too closely, but we knew that they would grow fairly quickly, and much more quickly than box.

We supplemented these with tiny rhododendron shrubs, which like shade and will look magnificent if they survive to their 10-feet by 10-feet + mature size. (But, the rhodies are struggling with the lack of moisture and we may eventually have to replace them.) The line of shrubs, while far from solid, helped to establish a visual line - a symbolic break between public and private space.

So far so good.

We made the path by cutting in long beds on either side of the yard. The grassy walk left between them we allowed to taper, being most narrow by the gate. This helps to force perspective and make the walk look longer and more dramatic than it really is, again pulling the eye along, away from the house and street.

Then came the fun part - herbaceous planting!

Our gardening budget wasn't terribly large, but more than one of our friends had big old hostas, which like shade, tolerate dry conditions and need to be divided every so often to retain their vigor. So we did some friendly bartering. Our friends got some garden maintenance, and we got divisions from their hostas. Besides a white and green variegated hosta that is very common here in town (it's old, so we're not sure exactly what it is) we gained starters for a couple of fun newer variates too, like Northern Exposure and Great Expectations. We also got a few stalks of yellow-creme perennial foxgloves.

Then we splurged $20 or so on some tiny blue-leaved hosta seedlings, a white Bleeding-Heart, a big stack of Forget-Me-Not seed packets, and one of columbine seeds. It doesn't sound like much in the re-telling and, truth be told, things took a while to get going. But we were delighted with the results the following spring.

Everything has filled in nicely since then, and we've tried a bunch of other perennials (shade-loving Geraniums and Lenten Roses, for instance), and added a few annuals (mostly Impatiens) and biannuals (Foxgloves) for extra color.

The extra challenge of gardening in the shade has made this one of our favorite and most rewarding gardens.

We love to be in it, whether walking or weeding.

Just recently we added a few solar-powered lights along the path, and now we spend time strolling back and forth after dark too.

I'd love to hear about your own experiences with shade gardening, and your favorite shade (or drought-resistant) plants. But I'll understand if you don't have time to write, as long as you,

- Don't stay indoors!

Watching Birds

2010-06-02T12:52:00.000-07:00

Last month I threatened you all with a recitation of how my wife and I turned a grass strip alongside our house into a shade-plant garden path. I may yet write about that, but I've decided instead to show you some of the new friends we've enjoyed this spring.

When we first put out bird feeders, a couple of years ago, we had almost no visitors. But since we've begun collecting shrubs, bushes and tree saplings, we've been treated to a number of feathered friends keeping court.

Goldfinches started visiting almost before the snow stopped falling, and they eat both the thistle seed and the black-oil sunflower seeds.

Two pairs of purple finches (picture below) spend most of their time on the thistle seed, or playing hide-and-seek in nearby branches.

The Titmice and Red-bellied woodpecker come much less often, but we managed to get better pictures of them than of the Nuthatches and Downy woodpeckers who visit almost daily.

(Scroll down to see....)

After a couple years of fruitless attempts, it's fun to see and hear these little guys (and gals) flitting around.

People sometimes ask about the best kind of bird food, and my opinion is that you can't do better than plain black-oil sunflower seeds.

Seed mix is often half-filled with millet, which appeals mostly to doves - the other birds sneer disdainfully as they toss it over their shoulders. But all of our birds have snacked from the sunflower feeder at one time or another. It makes sense then, as long as you're paying for seed by the pound, to get seeds most likely to be eaten.

But, your results may vary, so don't be afraid to experiment, if you haven't already. (Someone told us that larger birds like woodpeckers and Blue Jays really like peanuts, so that's on our list of things to try.)

And while one of the perks of feeding birds is that you can enjoy them from inside your window, until next time,

- Don't stay indoors!

Stopping to smell the tulips, iris, lilacs, phlox...

2010-05-03T14:41:00.000-07:00

I think my wife was not so much bitten by the gardening bug as that she swallowed it. Close association with her has produced a real (if smaller) love for gardening in me, and in our little girls.

So, I knew when we bought a house, a couple of years ago, that we would be busy turning its grass-and-trees landscaping into something brighter and more artistic. But it's really striking me this spring: We (by which, I mean, mostly, she) have been busy!

I've also noticed that when taking pictures of gardens, people tend toward close-up shots that bring out the beauty of just a plant or two. It makes sense when you're walking through a garden, park, woodland or whatever - you can't help but see the big picture all around you, so a photographer's instinct is to capture the smaller gems that might otherwise be lost.

But since I can't walk you around our garden to show you how much has changed, I've dug out some shots that I hope will do a decent job of showing how the property has come to life.

Take for example the area in our back yard beside the garage. It was mostly bare of grass when we moved in, and had an awkward slope to it.

At the time we started working on the back yard, there was a great pile of dirt in the front yard, which had been dug out when we enlarged the car-park.

We wheelbarrowed a big percentage of this dirt to the back yard, and graded it to make an almost-level terrace that came about fifteen feet out into the yard. Then I re-used some flagstone and concrete pavers, also torn out during the driveway expansion, to lay down a patio.

I laid the patio directly into the dirt, instead of setting it "properly" on a sand or gravel base. As a result, it has settled already. It would be easier to sit on if it were level, but we think there is a charm to how it seems much older than it is. It also has let my wife experiment with planting things in the spaces between stones. We're trying several kinds of moss, violets, and are quite happy with how the small bulbs scilla look in early spring.

To get a more peaceful feel we planted the evergreen ground-covering plant pachysandra between the patio and garage, and let the beds wrap partway around two sides.

Pachysandra is a great shade-loving ground-cover. While not aggressive, it has filled out nicely from the cuttings we started with, and seems to have almost endless tolerance for being divided and spread around.

My wife also planted a climbing hydrangea next to the garage. Hardly taller than the ground cover now, it will eventually cover most of the garage wall, which should add some more soothing color and interest to the setting.

To help the area feel like part of the yard (and to make room for growing more plants), my wife planned a border-garden extending along the driveway from the garage and patio to the sidewalk, which I widened with some of the leftover stone pieces.

After a couple of years of planting and experimenting, there are quite a few things growing in the little border, but the dominant features will eventually be the lilac shrubs (when mature they'll make an 8 -9 foot screen and be covered with scented clusters of flowers in the spring) and creeping phlox in springtime.

I would still love to hear from anyone willing to share their own writing or photos of time enjoying nature. But, depending on how things go, maybe next month I'll indulge myself by showing you the story of our shade path-garden.

Until then, don't stay indoors!

Peepers - the other heralds of Spring

2010-04-02T05:55:00.000-07:00

I went running this morning. I don't really like to do it. I'd rather do something involving a ball, or gardening, or playing paintball - something less monotonous. I've read that having a kind of meditative mantra can help with repetitive tasks, but the one I tried ("Ow... ow... ow...") didn't help much, and I've never come up with anything better.

But I have to do something to stave off the creeping effects of entropy on my suddenly-not-immortal body, and running is a pretty effective tool. So I do it, especially when I can go with a friend like I did this morning.

We left around 5:45 am - which in western Pennsylvania, in April, is before the sun is up - and were having a pretty nice talk, all things considered, until we passed by a swampy area just as the sky was lightening. What interrupted us was the sound of Spring Peepers singing in a vibrant chorus.

My friend grew up on Oregon, where they don't have Spring Peepers (Or lighting bugs!), so he had no idea what I was talking about when I panted "peepers!"

I had so much fun telling him about one of my favorite springtime things that I'm not sure we ever got back to our original topic. (Sorry Casey!) But it also made me want to share it with all of you.

Spring Peepers are tiny (about 1") tree frogs who hibernate all winter under logs or bark and spend the rest of the year in plants that grow in or around water. According to National Geographic.com, they can allow most of their bodies to freeze during hibernation, yet wake in spring with no problems. To the right is an image (From National Geographic) showing a peeper's size relative to a paper clip!

I grew up in the mountains of northern Pennsylvania, where the Allegheny River is small enough to wade across for most of the year. There was hardly a pond or a marshy spot up there that didn't have Spring Peepers. And they were reliable. Robins filtered into the deep river valleys at what seemed to be irregular times, but you could count on the peepers to start singing soon after the last freeze, and to sing evening and morning for at least a month.

My dad loved the peepers. There was an old beaver-pond down the road from our house, so full of peepers that you could hear them driving by with the windows up. But we rolled the windows down anyway, and we'd often stop there in the road to let the resounding chorus wash over us with the spring breezes.

On several occasions we kids got to stay up late, pulling on old muck boots, grabbing flashlights and tramping with Dad out into the marsh to get a glimpse of the tiny singers in action. They have a habit of going silent when you get near, like crickets do, so we often returned home without a glimpse. But other times - well, the other times were magical.

This picture (from frugalyankee.com) helps explain why it can be hard to find such noisy creatures. Not only are they tiny, but they're very well camouflaged!

It also reminds me of the one time I got to hold a peeper. I was eight or nine, and happened to shine my flashlight down between our feet. We were standing on leafy litter, like in this picture, and when I told my dad "I found one! It looks just like a leaf!", I'm pretty sure he thought it was a leaf. But he held his light on the spot for me, my awkward hands swooped down, and I grabbed a memory I don't think I'll ever forget. This isn't my hand, or "my" peeper, but it was an awful lot like this:

* * * * * * * *

The robins arrived here weeks ago, puffed up like feather dusters and picking miserably through the last couple of snowfalls. But spring is here for sure now. The peepers were singing this morning.

Happy Squirrel Appreciation Day!

2010-01-21T07:05:00.001-08:00

January 21 is Squirrel Appreciation Day. Just in case the squirrels at your feeder haven't proved themselves to be devilishly clever enough, have a look at these fuzzy thieves:

Send Us Your Nature-Inspired Writing

2010-01-01T12:58:00.000-08:00

At Earth Sun Moon we've built a fun little business by combining a love for nature with our love for laughter, but often the best part of enjoying nature is seeing it through someone else's eyes.

So, we invite you to write an essay or short story about your experience in, or love of, nature. There's no minimum length, but try not to get too far over 3,000 words. Poetry is welcome.

This is a contest of sorts - we'll be posting all the best entries we get. Make sure that anything you submit is entirely your own work, and we'll respect your ownership of all rights to the material. (This assumes, of course, that you are giving us the right to publish it once on this blog.)

Submit your writing by viewing my full profile and sending it to the e-mail contact provided. Rich-text or MS Word attachments are fine; otherwise please put your writing into the body of the e-mail.

Don't feel like writing today? Scroll down to read what's already posted.

Bear feeding season

2009-10-16T12:32:00.000-07:00

One of our employees had a big visitor to his house last night. A black bear tore down and emptied all of his bird feeders, and tore apart his compost pile. It's a good reminder for anyone who lives in bear country (which covers most of the continental US) that, despite our best efforts, we share the land with widlife on their terms, not ours.

Late fall and early spring are times when bears need lots of extra calories, and it's worth thinking about whether we're inviting them into our lives, or how closely. New York's Department of Environmental Conservation has a nice concise article on Bears & Bird Feeders, and I've linked below a short video of a young bear eating from a birdfeeder.

Notice that the feeder is on the edge of the woods - more likely, on one hand, to attract bears but also safer as it's further from the house.

New T-shirt design - Advice from a Campfire

2009-09-30T11:58:00.000-07:00

A great shirt for the autumn bonfire season!

Spark new ideas - Bring people together - Kindle strong friendships - Radiate warmth - No smoking - Be a good storyteller - Don't burn out!

Photo Journal

2009-09-17T13:23:00.000-07:00

By Melody Witmer

There were many green, yellow and brown leaves, but this one stood out.

Who doesn't like a long walk in the middle of the woods?

Reminds me of Ezekiel 17:24

Nature Calls - Western Blue Jay

Rifle Falls

Colorado valley

Colorado's majestic mountains

Nature's places

Before the storm

Puppy Love

Say Cheese!

I Hear the Bells of Nature's Church

2009-09-10T04:46:00.000-07:00

Chris Highland, August 2009. San Rafael

I hear the bells of Nature's church,
So, on my cap, and off to search
A lightened pack of curiosity, joy
Not felt so strong since yet a boy
I bend to grasp my walkingstick
And saunter deep to forest thick
One eye a telescope to scan the distant ways
One eye a microscope the ants, beetles afoot amaze

And now a choir draws my ear
Just passed the peaceful grazing deer
Anthem familiar, hymn pure and sweet
I quicken steps with lighter feet
The wood-en door swings wide to show
A stream and falls in full-singing flow
I sit to listen on a boulder pew
With a smile of knowing I'm of the chosen few

A voice beyond the cascade rises
Calls to higher altars-spiritual surprises
I leap the stones with expectation
Senses alive to wild exhortation
The woods grew darker, the way unclear
Though feeling lost, I lost all fear
When near, above me the sermon came
Upon a pulpit a tongue untame

The wisdom spoken, the courage pronounced
A truth unbroken, good news announced
With words unhuman, no words indeed
The sound sufficient, a heart to lead
The preacher ascended in feathery robe
And left me stunned with meaning to probe
For the owl herself had only said
What I already knew, What I'd already read

The scriptures and sermons, the choirs and prayer
Are all open to everyone anytime there
There in the wild inspiring places
The congregants greet you with furry, feathery faces
Your fellow parishioners shuffle, scurry, slither and fly
Teach like the trees, the mountains, the sky
And if you are listening and open each day
You might hear the bells, as they gladly, out there, call away.

Special Squirrel Consultant

2009-09-02T09:03:00.000-07:00

Our offices are on the edge of a residential section in little Grove City, PA, with lots of old maple trees and a handful of oaks. It's not uncommon to see squirrels running here or there overhead. It IS uncommon for a squirrel to stake out the front door as though waiting to speak with someone.

Rumor has it he (she?) was hoping for a modeling contract, but he gave up and moved on before our legal team could draw anything up.

Employee Photo Journal - Mary B. visits Yellowstone National Park

2009-08-19T11:54:00.000-07:00

Lower Falls at Yellowstone National Park

Glacier National Park

Mountain Goat (at Glacier Park)

Mary, Paul & Molly

Lewis Lake, Yellowstone Park

The Grand Tetons

Bull Elk (at Yellowstone Park)

Wildflower carpet (at Glacier Bay Park)

View from the bus window!

ANNOUNCEMENT: Mysterious E-mails

2009-08-17T06:16:00.000-07:00

Did you get a "Thanks for Shopping" E-mail, but haven't bought anything lately?

We're sorry to say that our former e-mail provider e-mailed a number of our customers thanking them for their purchases, even when these customers had not bought anything lately.

If you received an e-mail like this, please disregard it. It was a technical issue, and we are making sure that you won't receive a similar e-mail in the future.

miner’s falls

2009-08-05T07:39:00.000-07:00

by Jim Highland

water snakes
past tree roots;
falls like wet shirts
tossed up,
collapsing to slap
rocks below.

Chesapeake

2009-07-29T07:06:00.000-07:00

By Larry Roszkowiak

My first girlfriend was the Chesapeake Bay.

Long legs. Soft shores. Breezy sighs.

I met her when I was a boy. At first I played in her head streams. Up the Little Elk, deep in the reeds. Cattails so thick and firm I could barely get my little hands around them. At night we’d light them and their perfume was a sweet syrup drifting in the humid air glittered with fireflies stalked by little boys.

When I got older I moved south. I wanted adventure. Her high swells and stiff tides were more than a match for my daring.

On the quiet nights I’d slide into a cove on her Bohemia and ever so quietly let down my anchor chain. Nothing to be heard but her tender waves and the beating of my heart.

I saw her Daffodil Island blooming in June. Pup tents pitched on her thighs.

I felt my way up her Sassafras in the dark with a lead line and running lights.

I learned how to walk down a pier with a bag of crabs and a bottle of root beer.

No matter what I did ashore at night she was always glad to see me in the morning. She’d blow the hair from my eyes then give it a quick twist just for fun. She looked fresh every single day. I’ve always liked pretty girls in the morning.

She’d wake me with a gentle rocking. I’d lie in my warm, quiet bunk and hear her gently licking the laps of my hull.

I could look into her eyes and see a heron tip-toe through the shallows.

Black skimmers swooped through the mists under her piers.

She loved a good hull. Her favor was a stout keel with an oversized rudder. She’d fondle my transom with a gentle and firm following sea. Swaying me first to the left then to the right. Never too far.

She had lots of little hidden places. Places where no one could find you. Safe places. Places where only the birds had walked. The only sounds were my footsteps in the sand and her waves on the stones. We loved being alone.

Sometimes we’d be apart in Winter. I’d look out my window at the drifted snow and wonder if she were warm. Some years, during a winter’s gloom, I’d wonder if she really cared that I was gone? She knows lots of guys. What makes me special?

When we’d finally meet again in the Spring she’d always be glad. She’d wear flowers and stroke me with gentle tides. I felt a guilt for doubting her.

I remember our last summer together. I knew I’d be leaving. I didn’t know where I’d be going but I knew it would be soon.

I’ve never returned.

I’ll go back and see her someday. Though, I must admit, I fear it. We’re both older. When she knew me I could scamper like a squirrel.

I’m different now. My rigging is old and my scuppers are rusty. Topsail’s starting to shred. My bow doesn’t set up nice and smart like it once did. Rudder (what’s left of it) is almost frozen.

I hear she’s gone through some changes herself. She’s not a toy for boys anymore. She’d probably say she’s matured. I hear she’s wearing make-up. I never thought she needed it but if it makes her feel good I’m happy for her.

If I go, I won’t call. I’ll just show up, find a quiet pier and sit down for a while. I want to see if she remembers me.

If she does, we’ll have a talk.

If she doesn’t - I’ll just leave quietly.

I don’t want to make a scene.

dark trees haiku

2009-07-22T07:13:00.000-07:00

by Jim Highland

wind blows through
parts of dark
brown, almost
black trees at dusk;

rustle, rustle.

New T-shirt design - Advice from a Buffalo

2009-07-22T06:51:00.000-07:00

The latest member of our best-selling Advice From Nature(tm) series has an unusual challenge--No one seems to be sure what to call the magnificent brown bovine-like creatures that once ruled the American plains!

So, this design comes in two varieties: Advice From a Buffalo, and Advice From a Bison. Not to worry - as Shakespeare said, "a rose by any other name would smell like the same herd of cattle."

Advice from a Buffalo/Bison: Stand your ground - Have a tough hide - Keep moving on - Cherish wide open spaces - Have a strong spirit - Roam wild and free - Let the chips fall where they may!