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For Boulder {grief medicine}

For Boulder {grief medicine}

Sometimes grief moves in silence, a dark undertow too deep to fathom. Sometimes it is moments of bright grace, and tears that heal. Sometimes it is a screaming howl. Sometimes it’s gratitude. Sometimes rage. Always raw, unwieldy, unexpected…

Autumn Grief

Autumn Grief

The flowers have all faded, the seeds scattered to the wind and to be swallowed by the ground; the moisture has evaporated and leaves burnt by the sun hang on by a mere thread before casting themselves off to die and become mulch and eventually new soil…

Voice of the Earth

Voice of the Earth

And still there are places where the pika squeak and thrive, where cold-loving evergreens reach toward the sky, where wild mountain waters run under stone through creases in alpine meadows… . . . …But even those pikas are threatened, so many of the trees have been lost to beetle-kill and other blight, and the waters are low, the snows shallow…

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