MARIA RENéE JOHNSON

There is so much that remains invisible without the prompt to notice it. We cannot see what we’ve never been nudged toward. If the...

It's mid-Springtime, now, here in the Sonoran Desert. The Palo Verde trees whose branches remain green, true to their name, are...

A more winding piece than usual... I believe this particular bit of writing is a part of my grieving process, about everything all...

Last year, I was fortunate enough to see the author Barry Lopez speak in Eugene, Oregon. Not only was I moved by the messages he relayed,...

To pick up a dead hawk From the side of the road And sing her into the next ~ To swallow the clouds As nourishment, as a way To remember...

With a collective grief rolling through our bodies – with a looming and questioning – with a reminder of our and our loved ones'...

I’m thinking about you all in these strange and uncertain times, this great unraveling, revealing, and transition that is continuing to...

Day 1. I do not know what to think. My feelings feel too much. I spend the day spinning somewhere over my body. Day 2. Venturing out, I...