Tag Archives: outdoors

Haiku–No Glasses

Posted on July 24, 2014 by Jim Stewart

Seeking fresh protein, a small fuzzy morning bird walks up a tree trunk. (top: lynxed.com; bottom: vickiehenderson.blogspot.com)

Posted in Birds, Haiku, Poem, Wildlife | Tagged humor, nature, outdoors | Leave a comment

Waiting for coals; the charcoal is still just warm. Oh, there is intense heat at the bottom of the stack, but it needs to spread throughout and proffer a red and white glow that hollers “Caution!” (Note: never work a … Continue reading →

Posted in American history, American Indian, Outdoor cooking | Tagged Grilling, history, humor, outdoors | 2 Comments

Convenience Kills

Posted on June 27, 2014 by Jim Stewart

Brilliant colors, white, clear, black– attack my shoreline with a ferocity that indiscriminately kills creatures born to breathe and eat water; even when they eat each other the cycle doesn’t stop. Bent, broken, large, small, infinitesimal: it is indestructible. Long … Continue reading →

Posted in Beach, Poem, Pollution, Uncategorized | Tagged awareness, ocean, Oregon coast, outdoors | 3 Comments

No Place to Land

Posted on June 4, 2014 by Jim Stewart

The eaves sing their songs, odd harmonies swirling with gulls as they wheel worried among the masts. The crows are hunkered somewhere in the green watching the blustery sway. The chickadees hold tight as near the trunks as they dare. … Continue reading →

Posted in Birds, crow, Poem, Writing | Tagged coast life, life, outdoors, poem | 1 Comment

Homecoming

Posted on May 30, 2014 by Jim Stewart

The grass, bent with breeze, wets my shoes and pantlegs. It tastes of salt and smells of rain as I stand sinking into the sand beneath. My knees are calm, my heart bright; my senses know when I am home. … Continue reading →

Posted in Beach, Home, Humans, Oregon, Poem | Tagged coast life, home, life, nature, ocean, outdoors | 8 Comments

The Last Beach House

Posted on May 13, 2014 by Jim Stewart

It sits hollow near the sand washed up the road where the other houses look like waddling waders, maybe clamming, maybe just enjoying the wet. Old Bill built his bungalow back in the teens when high tide was still a … Continue reading →

Posted in end-of-life, Poem, Science, walking | Tagged coast life, life, loss, outdoors, rising sea levels, speculation, weather | 10 Comments

Parenting a Snowlady

Posted on May 6, 2014 by Jim Stewart

She crafted the snowman all by herself. I was there to just lift the second big snowball and head too, but she helped with that, telling me which side was the front. “Do you think the head is crooked?” “Do … Continue reading →