Writing about the natural world

Catherine Bollinger is teaching a a short workshop on writing about the natural world. 

This workshop takes advantage of the gardens and trails at the NC Botanical Garden in Chapel Hill to practice observation skills and brief writing exercises. Catherine Bollinger will share tips on ways to add specificity to accounts of the natural world by honing observation skills and using all senses to translate sensory information into vivid prose

Saturday, July 13, 10:00 AM

Contact Catherine at piedmontgardener.com for more information.

Writers' Morning Out

Pittsboro Writers’ Morning Out meets Saturday, May 11, 1:00 PM

at Davenport & Winkleperry, 18A East Salisbury in Pittsboro.

All writers, all genre are invited.

Critique groups: Our two critique groups have merged. We have limited space still available.  If you are interested in participating in a group, contact the facilitator:

Group 1:  Meets 2^nd and 4^th Saturday at 10:30 AM. Carol Phillips   calsea@gmail.com

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A Poem for the Day

                                                    MYSTERY OF THE MOUNTAINS

                                                

The majesty of the mountains mirrors the sanctity of the soul

Its hills and vales, peaks and ravines rolling randomly over time,

Arching here, sinking there, speaking their silent voice of stillness

Their universal and unmistakable mission of grandeur and gratitude.

To a Force, a Power, a Presence that powerfully touches every man

Speak O Mountain Man, and tell me the secrets of nature’s self that

Lie hidden in the caves and caverns of your quiet and ageless hills.

While the rivers run slowly and surely over the rocks and rills of valleys below.

While winds blow and snows slip slowly down the hill to heal our land,

Tell me what secrets lie hidden within your very soul.  And the Ancient Of  Days answered in fire and thunder.

Rod Randolph

A Poem for the Day

Cavort

She lets me leave

thick green tangles

into tickling grass

and shining sun.

Free I leap

and kick

and bounce

and buck

and run

then oops

she calls.

I duck beneath

sharp wires

to brush

and bramble

to warm milk

sweet breath

rough tongue.

Judith Stanton

   From The Deer Diaries

A Special Poem for April 15

TAXES

(My apologies to Edgar Allen Poe)

Once upon a midnight dreary as I struggled weak and weary

Over a changed Form 1040 I had never seen before.

Back and forth I did the sums, looking for deduction crumbs

Hoping, ever hoping that I’d find a way to score.

But alas twas not my lot to escape an awful blot

Upon my worldly fortune, Uncle Sam keeps wanting more.

My mind grows dim with sorrow, the due date is tomorrow,

And I must find the answer else I’ll end up very poor.

Can I claim those gambling debts resulting from my stupid bets?

Should I try to itemize my bar bill from the club?

What about my one contribution, will that not bring absolution?

Surely I can claim deduction for the new pants that I tore.

Alas ‘tis midnight past, and the time is flying fast, and I must find the answer

To the question: How much more?

You may think my answer funny; I’ll just send them all my money,

And request that they refund to me all that not spent before.

It is now six months gone by, and as yet there’s no reply,

Could it be that Uncle Sam will grant me no succor?

Then the raven came rapping, rapping

The Raven came rapping, tapping at my window door.

Oh! To be so doubly blessed, a messenger from the IRS!

Surely he has come to tell me that my problems are no more.

And I said “Oh bird austere, do you bring me news of cheer?

If you brought to me a refund then together we will soar.

I am down to bread and beans, for I do not have the means

To buy a decent meal.  Tell me Raven,

 Am I affluent as I was in days of yore?

Qoute the Raven, “Never more!”

A Poem For the Day

STILL HUNGRY

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There once was a man from Nantucket

who carried his pail and his bucket.

He dug up a yam

found a fat clam

unfortunately could not shuck it.

Rick Bylina

A Poem for the Day

DENTURES

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There once was an old man from Nantucket.

He angrily kicked an old gray bucket.

Out fell his false teeth

He sighed in relief

Now he could chew lunch and not just suck it

Rick Bylina