Memorable wild moment of 2025 was at a tiny stream in the mountains of southern Colorado. It meant several hours of driving, but we lived there in the late 80's and probably never meant to leave this tiny mountain town with its lovely forests, streams and meadows. The smell of damp earth, cool running living water and a deer observing our visit brought so many memories of the days when this was home. The Rocky Mountains are my special place, here I've lived, loved and grown old. The now town dog felt the coldness of the water and drank and drank, enjoying the feel of the cold mud and water on his feet and on his tongue.
My favorite wild memory of 2025 is spending Easter weekend at the Big Cypress Gallery on Tamiami Trail in the Butcher family’s former home overlooking a pond we couldn't take our eyes off of. While the mama gator and eight juveniles swam leisurely and sunned in the mud, a slow parade of wading birds fished from logs and wood storks carefully broke off leafed twigs for their nearby nests. Our guided dry-season swamp walk began on the other side of the pond where we spotted mama gator napping in the shade and saw her view of the second-story windows we'd been glued to the day before. I was disappointed we weren't wading but pleased to avoid numerous cypress knees that could've taken me out. This was a walk in the woods like none other we had ever experienced. Too soon we looped back toward the house on the opposite side of what is usually a waterway, but that day it was obviously a gator slide. No gator in sight, we crossed on a log and went back upstairs to relax and watch the pond. That evening at dusk, I glanced toward the slide’s entrance to the pond and, like an apparition, an enormous gator appeared. The juvies had made themselves scarce, but mama gator swam straight toward him, laying her head in the mud beside his. We all knew this was a rare sighting of the famous “Snaggletooth” or “the Loose Screw Swamp gator”; father of many generations of Big Cypress Swamp gators and we watched him chase fish until darkness fell. He was still there at dawn and somehow left as stealthily as he came.
Thank you for the zoom workshop. Clarifying and focusing our efforts is never easy. It helped me get past uncomfortable processes. I am reviewing my notes and journaling right now.
What a sweet nostalgic stroll through this past year with you. Thank you! I think it's your open-hearted sharing of your life, and your interest in our lives, that keeps us all coming back to hang out with you here. Happy New Year, Janisse! I wish you and your family continued good health--of body, mind, and spirit.
Two wild moments stand out for 2025. First the decision to let go of my shame and have a bilateral knee operation to replace bone on bone knees and straighten knock knee legs which were causing me severe mobility and back problems. Viola! in my 4th month of a very successful recovery.
Second, stepping into a long time and moving to France with my husband. Family there have guided us to a small village in the Dordogne. My French heart and photographer’s eye are a blaze.
What sweet memories of essays past!! I'm sad to miss today's workshop due to being at work, but I hope it is full of both participants and hope for 2026.
Idalia did a real number on our little piece of the world. Family of ours has a very special piece of land just over the Florida Georgia line. This pristine landscape with old growth pines along the Withlacoochee river has a spring as well. In that spring was an ancient log that was the perfect place to sit and dangle our legs in the cool water. The log disappeared after the storm and we were all heartbroken. The other day we visited this special place and lo and behold, the log was back! It might be in a little different spot but the joy we felt knowing that this beloved piece of wood was back filled my heart. It ties together family memories, tradition, and the love of nature.
Memorable wild moment of 2025 was at a tiny stream in the mountains of southern Colorado. It meant several hours of driving, but we lived there in the late 80's and probably never meant to leave this tiny mountain town with its lovely forests, streams and meadows. The smell of damp earth, cool running living water and a deer observing our visit brought so many memories of the days when this was home. The Rocky Mountains are my special place, here I've lived, loved and grown old. The now town dog felt the coldness of the water and drank and drank, enjoying the feel of the cold mud and water on his feet and on his tongue.
That you got to visit again makes me happy.
My favorite wild memory of 2025 is spending Easter weekend at the Big Cypress Gallery on Tamiami Trail in the Butcher family’s former home overlooking a pond we couldn't take our eyes off of. While the mama gator and eight juveniles swam leisurely and sunned in the mud, a slow parade of wading birds fished from logs and wood storks carefully broke off leafed twigs for their nearby nests. Our guided dry-season swamp walk began on the other side of the pond where we spotted mama gator napping in the shade and saw her view of the second-story windows we'd been glued to the day before. I was disappointed we weren't wading but pleased to avoid numerous cypress knees that could've taken me out. This was a walk in the woods like none other we had ever experienced. Too soon we looped back toward the house on the opposite side of what is usually a waterway, but that day it was obviously a gator slide. No gator in sight, we crossed on a log and went back upstairs to relax and watch the pond. That evening at dusk, I glanced toward the slide’s entrance to the pond and, like an apparition, an enormous gator appeared. The juvies had made themselves scarce, but mama gator swam straight toward him, laying her head in the mud beside his. We all knew this was a rare sighting of the famous “Snaggletooth” or “the Loose Screw Swamp gator”; father of many generations of Big Cypress Swamp gators and we watched him chase fish until darkness fell. He was still there at dawn and somehow left as stealthily as he came.
Thank you for the zoom workshop. Clarifying and focusing our efforts is never easy. It helped me get past uncomfortable processes. I am reviewing my notes and journaling right now.
Ray, I'm going over my notes this morning too. In the end, my goals turned into a list.
My list is turning into a narrative. I find that more empowering.
Go for the power.
What a sweet nostalgic stroll through this past year with you. Thank you! I think it's your open-hearted sharing of your life, and your interest in our lives, that keeps us all coming back to hang out with you here. Happy New Year, Janisse! I wish you and your family continued good health--of body, mind, and spirit.
Many happy returns of 2026 to you & Jim.
Long time dream.
Two wild moments stand out for 2025. First the decision to let go of my shame and have a bilateral knee operation to replace bone on bone knees and straighten knock knee legs which were causing me severe mobility and back problems. Viola! in my 4th month of a very successful recovery.
Second, stepping into a long time and moving to France with my husband. Family there have guided us to a small village in the Dordogne. My French heart and photographer’s eye are a blaze.
Wow, huge changes in your life. I am in awe.
What sweet memories of essays past!! I'm sad to miss today's workshop due to being at work, but I hope it is full of both participants and hope for 2026.
Awww, so sorry you can't be there. That job really gets in the way, doesn't it? :)
Idalia did a real number on our little piece of the world. Family of ours has a very special piece of land just over the Florida Georgia line. This pristine landscape with old growth pines along the Withlacoochee river has a spring as well. In that spring was an ancient log that was the perfect place to sit and dangle our legs in the cool water. The log disappeared after the storm and we were all heartbroken. The other day we visited this special place and lo and behold, the log was back! It might be in a little different spot but the joy we felt knowing that this beloved piece of wood was back filled my heart. It ties together family memories, tradition, and the love of nature.
Funny how life works this way. I'm so glad the log came back!
That's so cool!
Lively story.
And lovely too.