Writing is a solitary pursuit--the imagination guiding the hand moving the pen. I'm pretty old-school, valuing the work of good editors and the revisions process before letting my words go public. But life is short, right? And sometimes, just sometimes, we need to spout off.

About me...

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A writer, mother, teacher, friend, I love books, blizzards and beaches, music from Hildegard von Bingen to the Beatles to Bonnie Raitt to The Brood; I love medieval churches, red wine, creme caramel, and roasted beets, and walking the woods and coastlines of home. 

Wednesday, June 2, 2010

One crow sorrow?

Ever been followed, literally, by a bird? On this evening's stroll a crow picked me for a partner. Paced itself to swoop a little ahead, perching in the wires till I caught up, letting me pass only to swoop to the next nearby perch, all at eerily regular intervals. A perfectly straight line, following my path along a fairly busy road. Not so much as the crow flies but as the human ambles. Wings so close to my head I could feel their draft. After ten minutes or so it ditched me as unexpectedly as it had begun to tail me, flying back the way we'd come. Weird. A harbinger of what?

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