I live and write on Lingít Aaní, and gratefully acknowledge the past, present and future caretakers of this beautiful place, the Jilkaat Kwaan and Jilkoot Kwaan.

It is Epiphany, finally. Don’t you think there is a cosmic, even divine message in the sunset on Jan. 6? I just sat and stared.

Today it’s back to the freezing snowpocolypse and I’m trying not to be too alarmed by the fine snow blowing through my bathroom window, or the forecast: 2-3 feet of snow through tomorrow morning, high winds, then warming up and maybe changing to rain. The Beach Road slide area could slip again, the avalanche forecaster warns. Yesterday we raked and shoveled the roofs, and this morning they are doing that in Juneau with this storm’s piles, and anticipating the rain. I do have a lot of extra water bottles filled, and the candles and flashlights are ready, the wood is stacked high on the porch and the stove is warm, the chickens too, are snug in the coop with a heating pad and water heater and lots of food.

But enough of fear and worry already!  It’s a new day and a new year, so let’s get back to epiphanies. I have missed my regular check-ins with you. Truth is, between Covid isolation and Papa Bob I have been mostly at home, except when I was walking the dogs, running errands or working out, and so everytime I went to tell you something that I thought was interesting or funny, I worried that it might hurt Papa Bob’s feelings had he somehow got wind of it, and I heard the ghost of my dear mother saying “No one wants to hear what you had for breakfast…”  That was her way of reminding me that if I am going to write what many people read, to make it count. No pressure or anything.

But, you know, there is more to writing, more to communicating than the big stuff of life isn’t there? One good thing from the pandemic days (months.. years) has been Sunday morning Zoom yoga with my neighbor and friend Sarana ( you can join too at, saranayoga.com ). This morning, she read a poem by Hafiz, a Persian lyric poet who lived from 1310-1390, that was perfect for these times, for me right now actually, and so I have printed it and taped it to my desk as a guiding light for the year to come–

It seems like this was not an accident, but rather a cosmic nudge, so I just had to share it.  I have a feeling that your heart and my heart are old friends. Thank you for all the kind notes about my dad, and for reading what I write.

Your Mother and My Mother

Fear is the cheapest room in the house.
I would like to see you living
In better conditions,

For your mother and my mother
Were friends.

I know the Innkeeper
In this part of the universe.
Get some rest tonight,
Come to my verse again tomorrow.
We’ll go speak to the Friend together.

I should not make any promises right now,
But I know if you
Somewhere in this world –
Something good will happen.

God wants to see
More love and playfulness in your eyes
For that is your greatest witness to Him.

Your soul and my soul
Once sat together in the Beloved’s womb
Playing footsie.

Your heart and my heart
Are very, very old