
flashes of silver
fish plash beneath clacking palms:
season of the fins
sweet budding branches:
brush back the flying darkness
comb through tangled stars
lavender shadows
ease across the evening sky:
waiting for the moon
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When a friend’s mother died some years ago, those who’d known her were offered a remembrance from her extensive collection of plants. I chose a slightly pathetic, short and scruffy little cactus no one could identify and took it off to live at The Place, twenty-three acres of unimproved land in the Texas hill country.
There was a cabin at The Place, filled with all the conveniences of modern life. There were screened windows and an ill-fitting screen door that closed with a terrifically satisfying metallic “thwang!” There were Coleman lanterns and a wood-burning stove, gravity-fed water from a barrel in a tree and all the shade you could want.
Still, the valley itself was the attraction, filled as it was with scrub and live oak, pin oak, black walnut and cherry. Along the creek, water striders darted beneath canopies of fern. Fossils – clams, whelks and corals – lined its limestone bed. In summer, lightning bugs rose from the damp and decaying bottoms like shimmering steam and, at the first touch of autumn, freezing ice plants split their tall, slender stems, the curling froth of water betokening winter to come. (more…)

I have Wendy Billiot to thank for my introduction to Quinta Scott. When Wendy, my favorite Bayou Woman, first guided me (and “Otherbug”, my companion paper doll***) through the waterways and highways of Louisiana’s Terrebonne Parish, I just was beginning my education in the living ways of marsh, bayou and swamp.

When Quinta Scott stepped aboard Wendy’s boat some time earlier, she already had spent decades becoming an accomplished photographer and years traveling and documenting the Mississippi River for her book, The Mississippi: A Visual Biography. Fifteen years in the making, the book was photographed and written between the Flood of 1993 and the Flood of 2008, with Hurricanes Gustav and Ike thrown in for good measure. (more…)