RECOVERY

by Michael Engelhard The scene on the highway’s exit ramp caught me off guard. A stout woman, in her sixties perhaps, with glasses and frizzy brown hair, dresse...

Shelter

by JoeAnn Hart White caps rolled in sideways from the ocean, little waves hello from a storm tossing around in the Bahamas. A chill wind pushed a mist over Port...

The Great Egret

by Karen J. Weyant This time of year, in the middle of October’s bright colors, anything white in nature seems out of place: a McDonald’s napkin, a plastic stra...

An Island Ecology

by Sarah Thomas A saloon car pulls up beside us and its spotless body perfectly reflects our anoraked forms. A greying man with a youthful smile hops out. “You ...

Puddle

by Ferris Jabr Every day the furless seals come to the shore, stomachs swinging at their side. They promptly regurgitate for us. Finned morsels fly toward our y...

The Pickieterno

by Stephen Rutt It had died in the past hour. Severed, crimson-fresh, and glassy eyed. Soft to touch — pre rigor mortis. I’d pulled it out of the long grass und...

Convergences

by Michael Engelhard Everything is flowing—going somewhere, animals and so-called lifeless rocks as well as water. —John Muir, My First Summer in the Sierra (19...