Blog

4 weeks ago

Mary Pipher

This morning I watched a pink and gold sunrise spread across the sky like spilled paint. I contemplated our masthead tree, a white pine, that has been shaped by 50 years of wind. I think we are all like that pine, formed by the winds of our lives into something a little asymmetrical, yet beautiful.

Jim and I alone today. Our family arrives on the 26th. But being alone doesn’t mean being lonely. We have the morning sky, the coyote and the red-tailed hawk all dropping by to keep us company. Happy holidays to all my friends. Thank you for your comments. I look forward to our next year together.
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1 month ago

Mary Pipher

I am spending a great of time looking east out my windows toward Holmes Lake, toward the sunrises, the moonrises and the sunsets' reflections in the lake. Late afternoon December light just knocks me out. It reminds me of Alaska light, so pure and silver. In addition, lately a bald eagle has been cruising above the lake hunting for ducks and geese, as well as our abundant coots.

My spirits are high until I think about the circles beyond my own little world of family and community. Then I feel the pain of a country torn apart by fear, anger and greed. And confusion.

When the eagle comes, I stop whatever I am doing and I watch his every move. I hold my breath when he swoops low for prey. I feel an invisible line of hope between my eyes and his massive white head, as if somehow my watching this eagle, or shall I say, praying to this eagle, could somehow save us.
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2 months ago

Mary Pipher

This morning I am thinking about children. Yesterday I attended a climate march organized by students. As I shivered in the shade of the Capitol, I listened to sixth graders from Prairie Hill talk about our climate catastrophes and their lobbying efforts in our unicameral. Driving home, listening to NPR, I heard of the 16-year-old boy, held at the border who, alone on a cement floor, died of pneumonia. Last night at a winery, a woman showed me pictures of her son, a Marine, with his friends. They wore their uniforms but they were clowning around like teenagers. They didn’t look ready to fight America’s wars.

Surely, any definition of a healthy culture would include the idea that adults take good care of children. I can stand my own pain in the world, but I can hardly bear it that we inflict such suffering on children.
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