Sometimes I remember to go to church on a Sunday Let the warm impatience of horseflesh and blackflies Sun on pale skin and The sound of six thousand pounds of hoofbeats Take me where I’ve been meaning to go All

Thoughts as the pandemic emerges

January. The slow dawns of winter wake us gently, the twilight place between light and not-light stretching long and spreading thick over the valley. These days I become awake in stages; with the first rooster calls, with the dogs beginning

The Intimacy of Abundance

There are tiny prickles in the palms of my hands, millimetre-long slivers from a week of working with recycled wood. My hands aren’t hardened but they are willing, and the tool shed takes shape quickly under the direction of my

“Leylines” Video

A Sunday afternoon in the birch grove, a simple love song. True love requires trust and resilience, adaptability and a willing heart. Our more-than-human kin teach us this again and again. Most of all, they request that we find solidity

“Looking For Horses” Video – Live On the Farm

My sweet buddy Elijah and his Good Lady came by the farm for a minute or two yesterday. There are times when I don’t remember to make music unless someone else reminds me to. We ogled the baby piglets and

Shopping for a School Bus

It’s been a couple years now that we’ve been batting around the idea of living in a bus. It’s not so radical now; all sorts of clever people have converted these rock-solid tubes-on-wheels into campers or full on tiny palaces.

Sudden Gods

One cold, starry night I check on the cows in the absolute dark and find one missing – fearing she is calving alone in the field I set out to find her, following beaten-down grooves in the snow from so

Louka, Bringer of Light

This is the very beginning of a story that, like any story, happens both at the end of one story and also smack-dab in the middle of all kinds of other stories. This particular beginning is about how Louka, a

The Wind and the Seeds that Heralded Spring

We have had the coldest February on record. I don’t mean to brag, or complain, because we are not alone – most of the province is breaking its own February records – and also because I have so little to

Firefly and the February Freeze

One very cold morning, I watched the raven fly through the wood smoke,across the open field,and south-east toward the winter sunrise,where Firefly stood in fresh-ploughed tracks,alone and still.She did not begrudge the company, nor the admiration,but was extremely busy doing

Rewilding is Not the Right Word

This article originally appeared October 22, 2018 for Listen To Your as part of a series about life on the farmstead, called “Rewilding the Herd”. “Rewilding, though a handsome term and a romantic one at first glance, has come

When Will I Begin Again

We all falter. This is a prayer to be brought back into service, when the way is lost and the light is dim. Looking For Horses by Kesia Nagata When Will I Begin Again When will I begin again To

Lay Beneath My Wings

This is a hymn for the times, a prayer for courage. Looking For Horses by Kesia Nagata Lay Beneath My Wings Your endless body under mine When we move we move in time And flow like water o’er everything You


When your chest is exploding into a million lines of light, and all you feel is a profound sense of relief – this is when you know you have found the One. Looking For Horses by Kesia Nagata Leylines Had

We’re All Gonna Die (In Paris)

You ask yourself, how can I be here? And yet here you are: persistently, agonizingly, willingly. And you also need to stop reading Ginsberg if you don’t want to lose your mind entirely. Looking For Horses by Kesia Nagata We’re


There is a place by a river outside the city I was born in, where I found a way to bring my own body to life. While the world teaches you to hunch and shelter, bundle up tight and hide

Firing Line

What happens when you pull the wings off a fly? Salt on a slug, paint down the drain. Where does all the hurt go? What part of the earth absorbs the mistakes? What happens when you burn your own house

Allenby Townsite

What if, when we emerged, we found the that the world had ended? On the edge of the old townsite with our rusty first cars, dark teenage fantasies and aching hearts, the sun parching us dry, gumboots slap-slapping at bare

Something Moving

Intoxication can come in many forms, one of which is when two invisible people catch sight of each other for a brief, bright moment. Looking For Horses by Kesia Nagata Something Moving It’s too warm inside this room Baby you

Que Linda

Who doesn’t fall in love in Cuba? Except it was Cuba that I was in love with. A tremendous resource of soul shone forth from every face I met and my heart opened more at every turn. Looking For Horses

Bring Me All the Way Down

The sun beating down on arid Cariboo rangelands, the Bigness of All Things making itself known. Road dust in wildfire season, falling in love with love of all sorts and leaning into the land. Learning that it will take all

Looking For Horses

I find myself in the mountains of Andorra searching for the transhumance and the black ponies of the Pyrenees. I’m in the wrong time and place; the valley is empty. My department store sneakers are disintegrating as I walk. It


I was seventeen and in love. The timing was right, the moment was rich, and the love lasted years. I knew then that everything ends and that this would, too. Looking For Horses by Kesia Nagata Bicycle You are a

The Last Time

The last time I climbed onto your back – astride, I tried fruitlessly to summon the will to move you, to be anywhere but here, wrapped around your cool dusty hide, fingers snaked loosely through knots in your mane, stars

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