Entries by Roxanne Claire

Rinsed

This morning I woke to the sound of rain. All day long the soft patter and heavy, gray clouds cocooned the house. The children slept late. Early morning I drop off the car and walk back home. On the way, I find a stand of phlox, white petals set with a ring of purple. I […]

The Herald

When I pulled up in front of my house last week, a heron waited in my driveway. I had never seen one on my street before, let alone one on the ground. I drove past my house cautiously. The heron did not move. I parked on the other side of my house and walked back […]

Quartet

This morning I went walking early – at that hour when, although light, the crickets still sing and birds fly low. At a corner, I cross the street to stand where the spray of an in-ground sprinkler system will reach me. Four small black cylinders, inches off the earth, direct streams of water in long […]

Sound and Spirit

Earlier this week, not far from my house, I discovered what I call a trumpet tree. Its height slightly exceeded my own and the flowers, pale pink trumpets that hung bell -down, were each the size of my hand. They did not have much of an odor but the fragility of their color – the […]

A Flash of Scarlet

This morning I was scarcely out of the house before a blur of red caught my eye. Turning, I saw a cardinal perched on the limb overhanging my neighbor’s sidewalk. I walked cautiously to the driveway. Blue jays are common on my street; cardinals are rare. As I tried to get a better view of […]

A Delicate Line

This week while out on my walk I stopped suddenly in the middle of the block. It had not rained in several days but the ditch still had water. On this block, the ditch was grass-lined, small points of green sticking up sharply from water that reflected the blue of the sky above. Reflected too […]

Into the Sun and Out

On a walk earlier this week I came across two groups of dragonflies. The first was near a shaded pond, on the grounds of an elementary school. Dragonflies always remind me of my father. While he lay dying, the hospital parking lot was filled with what seemed like hundreds of dragonflies. Now when I see […]

Perfection

I’ve been out walking this week. If I leave the house early enough, a breeze keeps the air moving. I’ve been noticing the trees. Each tree inhabits its own space, claims the area around it. Each tree projects its own aura, defines the character of its patch of ground. Here a tree is jaunty, there […]

Teaching is Just the Sharing of Your Heart

Last Friday we had guests for dinner. Husband was out of town so it was just me and five boys. We had our traditional roast chicken dinner, mashed potatoes, and what according to son the older is the best part of the meal, my gravy. Afterward, we replaced our standard Shabbas Table Talk, our weekly […]

Rain and Rumi

Last week I headed down I-80 in the opposite direction, toward Iowa City. Nervous, both over the destination – a writer’s workshop – and the journey, a heavy rainstorm. As I drove, I listened to a recording of poems by Rumi. Halfway to Iowa City, the storm turned electrical. As a bolt of light tore […]