Stalking the elusive adder’s tongue

Fetid adder's tongue (Scoliopus bigelovii) profile, King Moutain trail, Larkspur, California by Betsey Crawford

The first year I saw nothing but handsome corrugated leaves with irregular brown markings. They reminded me of the trout lilies in my native northeast forests, so I looked forward to the flowers. But they never came. Though the leaves looked like the type that would accompany flowers, forests have lots of plants that leaf but don’t bloom, so I wondered if that was the case. Or was it an off-year for that plant? Were they biennials, which bloom every other year? Or had I missed them?

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Rain: beauty and magic

White bell flowers of manzanita species. King Moutain loop, Larkspur, California by Betsey Crawford

When my partner, George, died in October 2020, one of the things I dreaded was the coming rainy season. After my brother’s death in June, I was consoled by the beautiful blue and yellow days. By the long soft evenings, the silken roses in overflowing gardens. In October, I feared I had only darkness and

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Memories

Mount Redoubt from Kenai, Alaska by Betsey Crawford

After reading my last essay, A Year of Love and Death, on the losses of 2020, both personal and worldwide, my brother-in-law sent me a poem by John O’Donohue called For Grief. My partner George’s Irishness was a wild and wonderful force in his life. In the years before his death, he explored Celtic spirituality with

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The Bowl of Roses

Peach colored David Austin rose in Manito Park, Spokane, Washington by Betsey Crawford

Since my brother’s death in June, words have been hard to come by, for writing, speaking, even reading. Poetry has been a companion; so much meaning in so few words. And, on these bright, blooming California days, the tender mercies of beauty have been deeply consoling. Perry, who started his landscaping business in college, told

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