About Me

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I am a mother, a teacher, and a nature lover. I grew up on a mountain we called Owls' Knob in the Ozarks of Arkansas. The first seven years of my life were spent living in a log cabin, far from a store or streetlight, without electricity or running water and after twenty years of travel, I returned to the abondoned homestead. Now I live on a hill by a small lake and work at a public garden. These are stories about nature written from a women deeply influenced by place.

Saturday, April 16, 2011


Last night’s rainstorms lead to mud this morning. Two types of mud. The water made the soft soil muddy and since the lightening kept Zane and me restless, I drank coffee first thing. Sipping on muddy water, watching my son play in a mud puddle, I pondered the lesson I was teaching him, or not teaching him. So many parents say, “Stay out of the mud, yuck!” Then we wonder why people grow up to be disrespectful of the earth. If you start out by telling a small child that something is gross and they shouldn’t touch it, you can’t expect them to later learn to love and respect it. So I say, “Splash in the mud, yeah!”

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