Author Archives: janishaag

Even in my looming absenceI am here, in your reaching.I am horizon; you will never hold me. I will always hold you. —Steve Garnaas-Holmes, from “Out of Reach” ••• I hear you, looming absence,not yet here but nearby, so close … Continue reading →

While I’m away, Mary and Louise have come to staywith Poki and Diego. Louise, the new furry familymember, bounced into Mary’slife as she traveled in Mexico, which meant that Louise,like many immigrants, understoodmore Spanish than English. Lulu, ven aqui! Mary … Continue reading →

This is where they birthed their pups.This is where they swam with themin the shallows, getting their babiesused to being the half-land, half-oceancreatures they are. This is where they spent hours atopthe detritus of long-gone sealife,lolling around on shell bitsand … Continue reading →

(The Sea Ranch, Sonoma coast) Mid-September, and the purple irisare long gone, as is the spring green,so showy when we were last here,but what’s flaunting its flowingmanes like so many show poniesalong the coast highway isthe Pampas grass— not to … Continue reading →

“Anything I’d have to say has been said,”she told me over lunch. “What’s the point?Who cares?” I feel the tiny writer sigh deep insidemy spleen, the one who grips the pen,try to keep the are-you-kidding-me disbelief from splashing across my … Continue reading →

Right in front of the birdbathin the front yard of my mother’s house,the old concrete bowl still firmly attached to its pedestal with anow-detached little bird that restson its side. I refill the birdbath, as my father did, as my … Continue reading →

(for Terri Wolf in Port Ludlow, Washington) In the midst of our online chat,Terri abruptly said, “A bird justslammed into the glass”—the largepicture window over her deskout of which she beholds statelypines marching downhill tothe deep blue of the Hood … Continue reading →

In the nail salon, she’smanicuring for the big daytomorrow, getting marriedin a friend’s lovely yard,the young woman whosehands are currently being heldby a blue-gloved womanfiling newly appliedFrench tips. I overhear the story—about 30 guests, plentyof parking in the neighborhood,neighbors making … Continue reading →

Every leaf fall is a letting go,the death of the once-verdant,wishing that it might hang onforever to the branch fromwhich it sprang. As the autumnal equinox creepsup on us, the dying has begun.Dog days have consumed spring’sgreen gift and summer’s … Continue reading →

Like plucking fat blackberries offa still-loaded bush in September,putting most into a dented colanderto take inside to someone you love,who could use some sweetnesson the tongue, mindful to pop one into your owneager mouth, too, here and there,greedily licking your … Continue reading →