AT THE CHURCH O THE PINES it is a Sunday morn, and the members of our humble woodland congregation—ranging from snow fleas to eagles—strive for even greater levels virtue and moral rectitude than is normally the case. Although in truth I can tell no difference. The sun has arisen in the east, as is its wont, and shines brightly on
THERE ARE COUNTLESS pathways in life. And each step we take, intentional or otherwise, leads us further down the path we are on, or towards a fork and yet another choice. For Kathy and me, our paths led to each other and, eventually, down this little lane to an old log cabin in a place we call The Church O’
AT THE CHURCH O’ THE PINES, the deacons are beginning to don their white robes… The squirrels and bluejays are full of piss and vinegar, busy-busy, sending that more is to come.
TODAY THE CHURCH O’ THE PINES is locked in ice and snow. We will be returning there this evening, as we leave sunny Florida behind. We have had a lovely time celebrating granddaughter Sofie’s 1st birthday, visiting the beach, spending time with Eric and Ryan. Just sitting in the shade of a palm tree in the backyard seemed like a
HERE AT THE CHURCH O THE PINES IT IS A QUIET DAY, as are most. The residents and congregation are mostly untroubled by the tweets of destructive idiots, comforted instead by the tweets of birds. Nuthatches ‘yank.’ Chickadees ‘chick.’ The cardinals ‘chip.’ Occasionally the Bluejays let fly with a slightly louder commentary. But on the whole it is a quiet
LAST YEAR ON CHRISTMAS EVE, AND THE YEAR BEFORE, I POSTED A SHORT ESSAY ON THE MEANINGS OF A LONG-AGO NIGHT. I’ve been asked to share it again… Approximately 2020 years ago an infant was born (skeptics who doubt that he ever really existed advance a weak case, with more faith in skepticism itself than in evidence) likely in a
IT IS A COLD AND FROSTY DAY at the Church O’ The Pines. The North Wind, Kiwedin, has swept many of the branches clean, but the forest still sparkles and gleams. Old Man River is nearly frozen over, though a few Canadian geese still gabble downstream by the island. Below zero temps tonight will probably cover the last of it.
IT APPEARS THAT AS WE WERE EATING TURKEY, a bit of snow fell on the Church O’ The Pines. It also appears that the Caretaker will be snow-blowing today. The tall deacon pines looked fabulous in their white robes a couple days ago, but even as more snow has fallen, the wind has blown much off the limbs. I assume
HERE AT THE CHURCH O’ THE PINES, we reside in what is in many ways a Zen Forest—where we attempt to see things As They Are, and be as we Intend To Be. In many, many ways, the Forest helps in this way of living. Lately, amid incessant attacks on our nation and foundational values, it has been difficult to
AT THE CHURCH O’ THE PINES THIS MORNING, we defer to my recent trip to China, and to an extraordinary visit to another sort of church—the legendary Shaolin Temple over the Yellow River in the mountains near Zhengzhou. Made famous by Hollywood and the David Carradine Kung Fu series, this home of Chinese Ch’an Buddhism (precursor of Zen) dates back