J. Bruce Smith Wildlife Sanctuary, May 2018

In May, many members of my mother's family and some of my uncle's closest friends gathered for the dedication of my uncle's wildlife sanctuary, created on part of the old family farm. My uncle put much love and effort into safeguarding this beautiful place, and we are grateful he could celebrate its dedication during the last year of his life here with us.

Spring Snow, April 2018

New Home Day 4, March 2018

Gray skirts of afternoon trail

wind chimes, curled leaves, and

the rhythmic wooden thump

of cars above the pedestrian walkway.

Beneath the bridge--strange world

of sand, tire swings, and signage placing

the risk entirely on those at play.

Coffee shop festooned with colored lights--

men at the bar discuss anime and Lord of the Rings.

A man with tattoos on his forehead and soft black eyes

offers to buy me a drink.

Gestating Faith (December 2017)

My pew,  white femur
of a beached tree,
faces waves.
They fold in and out,
steady as respiration,
imperturbable.
Sun, low over
my left shoulder
on this winter afternoon,
skims grasses and dunes
with a vague warmth,
pink and fawn.
I am small
on a long strip of sand.
I am wombed
in lake’s heartbeat, lulled
by sun’s mother-voice.

Indiana Dunes State Park--winter 2018/2018

2018

Down this long wooden stair,
slick snow piles on step and railing.
On every side tree trunks people the ravine
down toward the frozen lake.

My muffled hand slides
clumps of snow away
with every bend of knee;
padded fingers grasp
wet boards as I step,
carefully down the side
of stillness.

Attachment to life
curls, decided as my grip,
spirit agreeing (for once) with fingers--
not fear so much as looking forward,
as wanting to go on---
affirmation over and over
before a thousand living
witnesses.

I turn at the bottom,
look back at wooded slopes
I have descended,
feel like flinging out my arms,
like screaming one great cheer
of exultation.

To my readers

Dear readers,


Thank you so much for joining me here from time to time. I'm honored that you've read my words, and I hope they added a bit of joy or beauty to your day, or were helpful companions in some way on your journey.


The last few years have held many changes for me, some of which involve my connection with the physical location from which this blog derives its name. At this time, I am choosing to remove Our Place from public viewing while retaining it privately so that I do not lose access to my work. The change will go into effect on Monday, May 15th.


I am uncertain what the future will hold regarding Our Place. I may choose to reopen the blog, to begin blogging elsewhere, or to let this be the end of a chapter. Whatever happens, thank you for your companionship--whether silent or spoken--and best wishes for your own future adventures.


Love,
ElenaLee ~ barn swallow