Elizabeth Lev’s experience studying and teaching art has led her to believe that when we encounter something beautiful, we are made vulnerable and opened to the truth.
John Keats’ “Ode to a Nightingale” — a lecture by Oxford Professor Belinda Jack
At this very moment, as my pen inks this page, the entire Western United States is scorching. Death Valley recorded a high of 140 Fahrenheit.
Then one morning, there I was, an old woman.
Where had I gotten in all those years on the Path?
That night I slept out in a field, and it rained.
Since the blues ought to be tall birds
wading and wailing
when the sun dies—
let the blues fill its lungs now
Here is a rock and two eyes
Here is a moon, there is a goose
And still there are more things I could not see
In “Finding the Mother Tree,” forest ecologist Suzanne Simard illuminates the complicated and intimate world of trees.
Oh, let there be nothing on earth but laundry,
Nothing but rosy hands in the rising steam
And clear dances done in the sight of heaven.