Friday, February 8, 2013

another rediscovered

from 2007

This ravine, still green and furious with foliage, is a kind of gap, its thirty-three descending wooden steps obscured by ferns and moss in October’s unseasonable heat. At the bottom, in the trough near the grotto where I stood with the spiderweb last month and played with light, I once buried my cat Tess, a gray and orange tortoiseshell who loved my mother. I wrapped her in a thinning ancient towel, white with marigolds across it, a brightness I saw the next morning from my deck, knowing I’d made the grave in that hard dark earth too shallow. That unearthing, however it happened, seemed to me then a kind of seamless holy thing, like Annie Dillard’s bloody tom, distributing gore across her waking body at dawn, his compact hunter’s form a tawny stamp of fecundity, much like the flare of vivid yellow I saw in the forest that morning: a flag, brash and empty.


  1. Hi, just a moment back I was searching for the information on the same topic Photographs and pictures of sun

  2. This is so sad. (Love the Annie Dillard reference). I buried my 20 year old cat in a sealed plastic bin...I couldn't bear the thought of anything hurting him. Crazy, I know. A beautiful write and photo, Laura. xo

  3. thank you. sadly, September before last I went away for a week, leaving my cats in the care of a friend, and when I returned the 17 year old brother of the cat in this poem was gone. I was heartbroken. at least I got some closure with Tess. thank you for your kind remarks. I understand about the sealed plastic bin, even though my take on Tess' burial was kind of the opposite.

  4. Interesting post. I remember each place my hunting dogs were buried under they favorite place to lay and rest in the heat of the day. Special places and fond memories....:)

  5. Yep, LOVE it! Looks so much more interesting than typically laid tile.
    Split face Tile


Search This Blog


About Me

My photo
Georgia, United States
I live at the edge of the forest in a little town in the north Georgia mountains. I teach sixth grade Language Arts and am writing a memoir of sorts about family, spirituality, and narrative. I am also exploring a possible writing project having to do with contemporary lay contemplative experience and how it might be informed by the Desert Fathers and Mothers of early Christianity. I am a relatively recent convert to Roman Catholicism and an admirer of Pope Francis, Leonardo Boff, Joan Chittister, and Richard Rohr. I'm a Lay Associate of Our Lady of the Holy Spirit Monastery in Conyers, Georgia. I am interested in indigenous cultures, narratives, and spirituality, especially how these can inform my spirituality as a lay contemplative. I write, read, take pictures, play around with creating ephemera from paper and cloth and other organic things. I cook, hike, watch wildlife, and collect random bits of interesting oddness, both tangible and abstract. I am a seer of smallness and a caretaker of ridiculous minutiae. If you want, e-mail me at or