I didn’t make it outside in the darker morning for a run before work. So I punished myself by going to work early — & arriving at the office, I still got blessed with a moment of beauty & calm.

Our local owls must be at maximum randiness right now. They’re hooting as soon as twilight comes & long after sunrise. Wishing them good fortune. (No owls in this pic, afaik)

6/ tl;dr I AM MADE OF BUTTERFLIES NOW /end

I ran through the woods to the sea this morning. It was amazing. Amazing. One of those what-have-I-ever-done-to-deserve-this, I-could-die-happy mornings that surely don’t come along too often. 🧵

I didn’t approve of the clocks changing (here in the US) & mornings getting darker again. But I think my complaints have been stilled. Everything, stilled.

Mornings like this I really feel my mother’s spirit walking alongside me, calling out all the small beauties as she would have done. Want to loose a great wail of grief from my chest, even as I’m grateful.

Adding this morning the extraordinary inner-lit blue of the wild larkspur.

The tadpole puddle! Been regularly running & walking this trail for more than a dozen years, & its small annual cycles give me acute joy. In spring the tadpole puddle, the shady bank where wild larkspur grows, soon that one spot full of wild scarlet columbine…

Checks out.

Thirty seconds of this morning’s great loveliness on my favourite hill — with bursts of western meadowlark song.

Having heard on @wfmu.bsky.social the excellent version of Talk Talk’s “Life’s What You Make It” by Graham Lewis (Wire etc), I have unfortunately also realised it’s one of those songs where you can easily make up infinite variations on the lyrics. Guess what my brain’s going to be doing all day.

What a morning it was for blue. For periwinkle, violet, hyacinth…

Quick second breakfast & #SitClub — carefully avoiding that clump of fresh poison oak at my feet 👀

Since I left home this morning, an hour & several miles & several hillsides ago, I’ve been looking forward to filling my mouth with the fresh bitterness of winter purslane by the creek. That is what I am now doing.

move slow and repair things

Our green spring hills, our blue mountain, & a tiny San Francisco on the hazy horizon. (& when I say “our,” this is the unceded native land of Coast Miwok people & the Yelamu, an independent tribe of the Ramaytush Ohlone)

Long pink light on the Friday hill & a (ma)lingering moon.

UK friends/Friends: “Quakers in Britain are joining other civil society organisations to organise a mass lobby of parliament at 2–5pm on Tuesday 17 March 2026. [Or] you can write to your MP using Liberty's tool to ask them to vote against the anti-protest clauses in the Crime and Policing Bill.”

[Exit Murderer.]

Good news that the execrable Kristi Noem has been fired, but Trump should really be firing Stephen Miller, the primary engineer of the vile ethnic reengineering agenda and murderously violent civic tensions that are sucking all of them into a bottomless political sinkhole, Trump included.

Vivid memories of going to the house of a rich friend's very conservative parents (stiff & awkward conversation about why I was in "Women's Studies" & why wasn't there a "Men's Studies" dept?) & being appalled to find a Lichtenstein in their guest loo. Reactionaries can even like iconoclastic art! 😮

Still mourning my youthful days when I thought art made people good.

Popped over the ridge to our old neighbourhood, into the warm glow of the light, & was delighted to see the white-tailed kite that nests there, hunting with its distinctive tail-down hover on the lower flanks of the hill — golden light passing through its spread feathers.

I will say only, in grief, that Epic Fury is not the exclusive property of our rancid government.

Again a half-dozen hares exploded away from me as I reached the ridge & the incredible eastern sky came into view. As if they’d been having a secret dance there. (Hey, are you even trying if you aren’t at least *risking* being fey?)

I just missed capturing the moment when the Great Horned Owl flew over, cargoing in improbable silence the heft of its head.

Over on IG, it’s that magical day when the dairy cows at James Robinson’s Strickley Farm in Cumbria taste grass again for the first time in the year. A really joyous feast day in my private calendar, & I’m so glad I didn’t miss it this morning.

Three hares on the ridge this morning, as if prompted by the calendar. Then deer fleeing as I descended. And a ridiculous feeling of pride that the only owl calling in the neighbourhood is in our tree. Our landlord’s tree.

Me: Do I look okay in these shoes? OH: it’s not the shoes.

The nice thing about the coppery shade of Manic Panic I’ve just used on my hair (while the grey grows in) is that it has a subtle plum undertone — which brings out the colour nuances in the giant forehead bruise that I got by falling headlong over the doorstep. Follow me for more tips on ageing.

What’s better than a newt? Newts! Newt sex!

The opening chapter of Solnit’s book recounts in part the return of salmon to the newly undammed Klamath River, home also to Yurok people. This morning I watched a female salmon digging her redd here in Lagunitas Creek near Pt. Reyes Station. The book is much about persevering toward a better world.

And the year’s first, perfect trillium.

I’d been on the trail for only a couple of minutes when I came on this lovely spring newt. Reminding me to watch where I put my great feet! #NewtJoy

I love hearing about red kites above the landscape of my childhood — something (as James notes) that simply was not there at the time. Thrilling also to find that an idealised memory can actually be improved upon: a dream of place where the trees grow, water flows, bricks become ivied, time happens.

Emeric Pressburger’s 2nd novel, The Glass Pearls, feels to me like an overlooked classic. Far too many contemporary resonances of pleasant people doing unspeakable things in the name of fascism, of other pleasant people thinking it can’t possibly be that bad, of the vital importance of memory…

US-Israeli airstrikes overnight have successfully destroyed the infrastructure surrounding Europe’s nascent spine.

Their chief complaint is that the killing innocent people paperwork wasn't filed correctly and that they weren't consulted. - @lukeoneil47.bsky.social

The world could be such a nice place if we allowed it. It's all so goddamn unnecessary. There's no need for any of it. It's so beautiful here. It should be so cool to be alive

I enjoyed having a couple of weeks off from weeping every day at random times. Ah well, mustn’t grumble.

If this morning were any closer to perfection, it wouldn’t know what to do with itself.

It’s a gut thing not an insight, but being in Washington DC this week has left me with a truly sick feeling, the taste of death on my tongue. A bodily knowledge that things are far worse than I hoped.

Reflective self-portrait with taxi & artificial owl

VERY messy public incident involving fascism & slapstick just occurred that I sadly cannot narrate here for professional reasons — but as I went for the requisite brisk walk in the aftermath, shaking, what should I see but what will now be for all eternity My Sign:

May we wake tomorrow to more peace, more justice, more beauty, more love, more joy, more time with our heroes & teachers.

The Bill is H.R. 7661. It defines ANY REFERENCE to trans existence as “sexually oriented material” that must be banned from schools. For god/dess’s sake, call your congressional representative to beg or demand or celebrate that they oppose it.

It's true it's true! I am incredibly excited to be in conversation with Rebecca Solnit about her new book on resilience, social movement, & the arc of history: Saturday, March 7, via @pointreyesbooks.bsky.social

Great to see the CWA standing behind these courageous workers, & also to see The Nation covering it. Reminder that the GoFundMe for the fired sex workers/organisers is here: gofund.me/6efad8315

It’s ok I found a queer vegan lunch place so I am very happy. And I could have proper fat chips later (gull-style chips). Of course it seems the birds know about this place too.

They got fries. I am happy for them. Why don’t I have fries.