ROCK

ROCK

The best way to see the country is by train.

The best time to travel from coast to coast is in the autumn.

I just completed a three day train trip from Washington, D.C. to San Francisco, California. It is now the beginning of autumn, the greens of summer are changing. The lighter greens of the birch trees are changing to pale yellows and gold. The medium greens of the maples are changing to reds and oranges. The darker greens of the oak trees are turning rusty and brown. Traveling west I saw the city landscape and rural countryside colored in wide array of yellows, reds and oranges.

In the east the autumn colors are bright and vibrant. In the west these same yellows, reds and oranges are more subdued. All are breathtaking!

The train traveled through the mountains of the Rocky’s in Colorado and the Sierra’s in eastern California, via a collection of tunnels. I also passed mesa’s in Utah. Most of these areas have never been seen by car or truck.

Something else I noticed as I journeyed through the west was the variation in the rock. In general rock is hard and solid. The mountains are high and wide. The rock is worn down by the winds and the rains, the freeze and the thaw. The rock appears to be round and very smooth, in many places, the rough edges worn away over time.

The mesa’s are tall, flat on top, with an expanse of a mile or more. In contrast the mesa’s appear to be soft and crumbly. It gave me the impression that if I ran my hand down the side of the mesa it would crumble. I could wipe it away with a brush of my hand. Here too, the wind and the rain has beaten down and deeply eroded the rock.

The contrast between the rock of the mountain and the rock of the mesa was intriguing. The same but so, so different.

As a child a rock was a rock. If you threw a rock you could break a window or knock over a soda can. But, as an adult, I find a rock is not just hard and solid. A rock is many things. It is old and weathered, smooth and rough, firm and crumbly. It can be so tall you can’t see over it or small enough to fit into your pocket.

A rock I thought was very black and white, but now I see it undefinable.

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Greetings!

I am so glad you are here to join me on my writing journey. I have been a writer for the past fifty years. discovering my passion for writing when I was in college. I am a professional naturalist having led hikes and taught classes in city, state and national parks in Illinois, Michigan, and Vermont. My essays have been inspired by my travels across the United Stated and Canada. I am a mother of five and grandmother of five who are also the subject of many writings. Cozy up with one of my books of essays or connect to my memoir which is written knowing there are wives and mothers who have traveled down the same bumpy road that I have navigated.

I look forward to you following me on my writing journey. Mary

Let’s connect

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INDIE MARKETS

Poetry – Ninth Letter (print journal), Harbor Review (online journal), Split Lip Magazine (online journal), Bennington Review (online & print), Foglifter (print LBGTQIA+)

Fiction – Ecotone (print journal), Normal School (print journal), Adroit Journal (online journal), Hunger Mountain (online journal), One Story (print journal)

Nonfiction – Zyzzyva (print journal), Brick (print magazine), Emergence (print magazine), Agni (print journal), Hobart (print magazine)