A MAGAZINE OF ZEN AND THE ARTS

House crows, landscape. Oil on hardwood plywood panel. 16” x 14” (2010-2011)

I watched the clouds hover and the moon rise over the field and hills not far from our home. The hills had burned twice in six months and it seemed to make the air tactile, the full moon more potent, bright. It was also quiet and there was plenty of time to linger. I thought of when we lived in an old school built in the basin of an abandoned granite quarry on the other side of the country. A startling number of crows congregated there in the trees above the cliff that carved itself up to the ledge. There were hours of raw, noisy conversations, while we stood at the bottom with our chins up listening, mouths open.  -GF