Author Archives: janishaag

The little patch of earth I stewardtoday opened its mouth to gratefullyreceive what might well be the lastprecipitation of the season, living, as I do, in the land of little rain,which makes me thankful, too,for what humans do to collect … Continue reading →

Every step is part of the journey.—Brother David Steindl-Rast ••• Begin, the good brother advises,with a pause and a deep breath.Then ask the question: What am I carrying into this moment? Every step becomes a pilgrimage,a journey to a sacred … Continue reading →

You know that thing that happenswhen you think you’ve gotthe thing down— you’ve been practicing the thingad nauseum bit by bithere and there for weeks— and you go to do the thing,confident that you can dothe thing—because you had it, … Continue reading →

(for Cliff) I plant a single tomato plant in your memory,a slender sprig about a foot tall that will,if she follows the directions on her little stake,produce small, torpedo-shaped orbsperfect for plucking and poppingin the mouth. Her name, according to … Continue reading →

(for Rose Varesio on her birthday) we are wild particles of timewhirling to find each other as we drift apartour lives sharpened and made widerif we can survive the velocity of love —maria popova ••• Love speeds by us and … Continue reading →

Plant something, suggests a wiser mindthan mine. Which I’ve been doing.Literally. And when the noise of cruelty and oppression,of war and meanness vibrates through melike a tuning fork, I go to the nursery. As if I need more plants.Bring them … Continue reading →

Bee daisy, too,bee butterfly bush,though the fragrant purple spears haveyet to make theirappearance. All kinds of bees—fat fuzzy ones,lithe black ones, bee-like hoverflies withtheir three pairs of commastattooed on their backs— all pollinators seducedby the come-hitherblossoms begging for a fly-by. … Continue reading →

The companion spirit who knows me bestdrops in at the oddest times, often witha can’t-miss-this message that might as well be a burning bush. Drivingdown H Street toward home, I see onthe rear end of a Toyota pickup: TELUWHT Reading … Continue reading →

becomes home, no matter how long we lived there,long enough for some to set down slender tendrils of roots or far longer so as to embed ourselves in the earth,whether welcoming loam for growing things or hardpan or desert or … Continue reading →

Riding the elevator downto the basement, the universitymusic professor warns that it mightfeel a little creepy down there. Though I spent time with bandsand percussion instruments in thisbuilding more than a half century ago,I’ve not been in its bowels. But … Continue reading →