The Best Fluffy Pancakes recipe you will fall in love with. Full of tips and tricks to help you make the best pancakes.
It is possible, I suppose, that sometime we will learn everythingthere is to learn: what the world is, for example, and what it means. I think this as I am crossingfrom one field to another, in summer, and the mockingbird…
After rain after many days without rain,it stays cool, private and cleansed, under the trees,and the dampness there, married now to gravity,falls branch to branch, leaf to leaf, down to the ground where it will disappear—but not, of course, vanishexcept…
Every day I see or I hear something that more or lesskills me with delight, that leaves me like a needlein the haystack of light. It is what I was born for— to look, to listen,to lose myself inside this…
He gave the fishher coat of foil,and her soft eggs.He made the kingfisher’squick eyeand her peerless, terrible beak.He made the circlesof the days and the seasonsto close tightly,and forever— then open again.
Hello, sun in my face.Hello, you who make the morningand spread it over the fieldsand into the faces of the tulipsand the nodding morning glories,and into the windows of, even, themiserable and the crotchety— best preacher that ever was,dear star,…
I supposethe Lord said:Let there be fur upon the earth,and let there be hair upon the earth, and so the seeds stuttered forward into ripenessand the roots twirled in the darkto accomplish His desire, and so there is clover,and the…
What if a hundred rose-breasted grosbeaks flew in circles around your head? What ifthe mockingbird came into the house with you and became your advisor? What ifthe bees filled your walls with honey and all you needed to do was…
It’s almost dawnand the usual half-miracles beginwithin my own personal body as the lightenters the gates of the east and climbsinto the fields of the sky, and the birds lifttheir very unimportant heads from the branchesand begin to sing; and…
I walk beside the ocean, then turn and continuewalking just beside the first berm, a few yards fromthe water which is at half tide. Eventually I findwhat I’m looking for, a plant green and with theflavor of raw salt, and…
I think sometimes of the possible glamour of death—that it might be wonderful to belost and happy inside the green grass—or to be the green grass!—or, maybe the pink rose, or the blue iris,or the affable daisy, or the twirled…