A Tide of Swallows
The swallows appeared suddenly from behind a cloud bank of perception and notice, as if they had just then come into being. They swooped between the trees that spread their boughs over the poppy-filled meadow yards in my quiet Seattle neighborhood, at the grass-edge of old crumbling curbs.
I stood at the crossroads, my arms outstretched, my head leaned back while they darted around me in a whirlpool of motion, their wingtips lightly brushing my cheek, my hands, my ribcage as they passed.
Their silky pirouettes flooded into a river made of arrowed bodies, apricot bellies and cerulean backs – wind spirits whose speed was greater than eyesight, who could only be inferred by effect. The soft-petal hurricane of their quick feathers sounded like the hiss of retreating waves over smooth black stones.
From the weave of their scissored wings, the shimmering threads of Story fluttered on the wind like spidersilk, tendriled into rich soil, rippled across secret pools in its endless wild magic and then moved onward, leaving behind both treasures and trinkets, small sea glass and the bones of leviathans, messages freed from their bottles and tightly closed mollusks, sky ships, wren feathers, hints of forgotten songs, and everything in-between.
What’s New
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This month, I am beyond happy to officially launch Tide Of Swallows as I celebrate Samhain 2026 here in the dark and rainy Pacific Northwest.
New on the site is, well, everything. But in particular, I’m pleased to present Wayward, an account of my epic move from Columbus, Ohio to Seattle, Washington back in 1997 and Murmurations, a 365 project I completed in 2017 that focuses on daily observances of nature and the self. Both were edited, updated and brought into the present over the last year.
Writing Projects
Purposefully lost on a road from there to here
365 days of everyday wildness and inner landscapes
Podcast Projects
The Wild Beside (Coming Soon)
Nature is waiting just beyond your doorstep