With a plop, plop, plop
Boy throwing stones in river
Reorders the world.
Watching my nine-year old at the river last summer, it struck me that the seemingly insignificant act of tossing rocks in the water was giving him a satisfying sense of power. And that made sense when I thought about it: you take a stone from the shore, decide where it may spend the rest of its existence, throw it and see the arc of its flight, hear its splash, and watch the ripples spread farther and farther.
Fierce little huntress—
Done stalking prey for the day,
She captures my lap.
For my sister’s birthday, I wrote and painted this portrait of her cat. Adopted from the animal shelter, this tiny but fearless black cat has proven her worth: she kills rats that are almost as big as she is.
Let the nectar flow—
Rivers of golden honey
Will carry us home.
Thanks to my beekeeper husband, I live with about 20,000 Russian and Italian bees. This piece is part of my honeybee series, which celebrates the secret life of bees and the pleasures of honey, as well as the richness and abundance they represent.