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Laughing in the Dark (Again)

Sometimes “once” just isn’t enough. Last fall, during a socially distanced writing retreat in Oakwood Lakes State Park, my friend Ruby and I took a short night hike around a wooded peninsula. Without flashlights. Without…
Phyllis Cole-Dai
October 5, 2021

Letter to the Mountain of Grief

Air-sucker. Heart-breaker. Life-wrecker. Don’t take it personally, Grief, but under our breath, or deep down inside, we sometimes call you such names. We have as many names for you as for the fallen of 9/11.…
Phyllis Cole-Dai
September 14, 2021

Random Notes from a River Raft

After a long, strenuous hike, you happen upon a river. A crude raft is beached on the sandy shore. Tacked to it is a paper that reads: “Take me downstream.” The handwriting strangely resembles your…
Phyllis Cole-Dai
September 8, 2021

What Shape Is Your Nest in?

This cute critter got me thinking about nesting. She’s a thirteen-lined ground squirrel. Her burrow lay beneath the campsite that my family occupied for several days this past week. The main entrance to the burrow…
Phyllis Cole-Dai
August 17, 2021
Work & Play

A Mess of Seeds

Back in elementary school, we had periodic desk inspections. Whenever the teacher would lift the wooden lid of my desk, the contents of the book bin looked shipshape—on the surface. That’s because I’d perfectly arranged…
Phyllis Cole-Dai
June 28, 2021