Foxglove Moments

Alan's haunting novel of the AIDS epidemic, As If Death Summoned, was released on December 1, 2020, World AIDS Day, and can be ordered at your favorite bookstore or from any online bookseller (418 pp) Paperback, $18.95, e-Book, $9.99. Read the reviews here.

Foxglove Moments

Foxglove is the name of my property, five acres overlooking the Lewis River Valley that was covered with the wildflower when I first moved here in 1996. 


Yesterday morning I experienced one of those moments of grace that happens occasionally on this hillside: I went out walking and encountered a bobcat enjoying the light and warmth of a sun spot; a big, beautiful guy with taut muscles showing through his striking coat, resembling a large house cat on steroids who works out regularly at the gym. At first he didn't see me. Then the click of my camera gave me away, but instead of either of us running away shrieking, we both just stayed and watched the other for a time in what seemed a peaceful shared communion. Then he wandered off. All in all, it turned out quite well: I didn't scare him; he didn't eat me. One of those unexpected blessings.
First posted: November 16, 2020

A beetle outside my window
moving confidently, decisively across the glass pane of the world,
moving with a sense of purpose, a bug on a mission,
as if knowing exactly what he's doing and where he's going.
Or does he?
Perhaps he's all instinct at work.
Impulse. Movement for movement's sake,
propelled by biological drives too deep for him to fathom,
programmed by nature to appear rational and intentional.
Maybe he doesn't have a clue what he's doing,
or why he's doing it.
Maybe he's just doing what he's gotta do,
the question of fate or free will never crossing his buggy brain.

So musing, I turn back to the presidential debate.



First posted: October 24, 2020




Sun glowering in a red, angry sky, 
as if fully fed up with Homo sapiens. 
What a mess we've made of our earthly Eden,
the planet fast becoming a dystopia (literally "sick place.")
The West coast on fire, 
shrouded in a dense suffocating cloud of smoke,
ash covers everything,
unsafe to be outside--breathe at your own risk--
resembling the Apocalypse.
Or maybe it is.


First posted: September 15, 2020

One morning last week, as I was admiring the butterfly bushes,
this little fellow came hovering and humming before my face,
asserting his territoriality over the lush blossoms.
I wanted to reassure him: No, really, I was just looking.


First posted: August 19, 2020







Each day find something worthy of note, 
and then note it: 
something to ponder,
to wonder at, to love, 

to be grateful you were here to experience, 
to receive as
 a gift.








First posted: April 4, 2020



Any moment now...




I notice again
as if for the first time
one season turning
toward the next
with everything
about to happen.

     Tim Nolan





First posted: February 29, 2020








These tracks tell me:

You are not as alone
up here
as you think
you are.

















First posted: February 13, 2020





Amid winter's glum monochromes 
come moments of
glorious color.












First posted: January 16, 2020




At day's end

a certain slant of light

turns the world


and mysterious.













First posted: December 26, 2019





I come into the peace of wild things,

I come into the presence of still water,

I rest in the grace of the world,

and am free.

                         Wendell Berry












[First posted: November 3, 2019]