Catherine Bollinger is teaching a a short workshop on writing about the natural world.
This workshop takes advantage of the gardens and
trails at the NC Botanical Garden in Chapel Hill to practice observation skills
and brief writing exercises. Catherine Bollinger will share tips on ways to add
specificity to accounts of the natural world by honing observation skills and
using all senses to translate sensory information into vivid prose
Saturday, July 13, 10:00 AM
Contact Catherine at piedmontgardener.com for more information.
Thursday, May 9, 2013
Pittsboro Writers’ Morning Out meets Saturday, May 11, 1:00 PM
at Davenport & Winkleperry, 18A East Salisbury in Pittsboro.
All writers, all genre are invited.
Critique groups: Our two critique groups have merged. We have limited space still available. If you are interested in participating in a group, contact the facilitator:
Group 1: Meets 2nd and 4th Saturday at 10:30 AM. Carol Phillips email@example.com
Thursday, May 2, 2013
MYSTERY OF THE MOUNTAINS
The majesty of the mountains mirrors the sanctity of the soul
Its hills and vales, peaks and ravines rolling randomly over time,
Arching here, sinking there, speaking their silent voice of stillness
Their universal and unmistakable mission of grandeur and gratitude.
To a Force, a Power, a Presence that powerfully touches every man
Speak O Mountain Man, and tell me the secrets of nature’s self that
Lie hidden in the caves and caverns of your quiet and ageless hills.
While the rivers run slowly and surely over the rocks and rills of valleys below.
While winds blow and snows slip slowly down the hill to heal our land,
Tell me what secrets lie hidden within your very soul. And the Ancient Of Days answered in fire and thunder.
Posted by The Resident Curmudgeon at 12:40 PM
Friday, April 26, 2013
She lets me leave
thick green tangles
into tickling grass
and shining sun.
Free I leap
I duck beneath
to warm milk
From The Deer Diaries
Posted by The Resident Curmudgeon at 4:53 PM
Monday, April 15, 2013
(My apologies to Edgar Allen Poe)
Once upon a midnight dreary as I struggled weak and weary
Over a changed Form 1040 I had never seen before.
Back and forth I did the sums, looking for deduction crumbs
Hoping, ever hoping that I’d find a way to score.
But alas twas not my lot to escape an awful blot
Upon my worldly fortune, Uncle Sam keeps wanting more.
My mind grows dim with sorrow, the due date is tomorrow,
And I must find the answer else I’ll end up very poor.
Can I claim those gambling debts resulting from my stupid bets?
Should I try to itemize my bar bill from the club?
What about my one contribution, will that not bring absolution?
Surely I can claim deduction for the new pants that I tore.
Alas ‘tis midnight past, and the time is flying fast, and I must find the answer
To the question: How much more?
You may think my answer funny; I’ll just send them all my money,
And request that they refund to me all that not spent before.
It is now six months gone by, and as yet there’s no reply,
Could it be that Uncle Sam will grant me no succor?
Then the raven came rapping, rapping
The Raven came rapping, tapping at my window door.
Oh! To be so doubly blessed, a messenger from the IRS!
Surely he has come to tell me that my problems are no more.
And I said “Oh bird austere, do you bring me news of cheer?
If you brought to me a refund then together we will soar.
I am down to bread and beans, for I do not have the means
To buy a decent meal. Tell me Raven,
Am I affluent as I was in days of yore?
Qoute the Raven, “Never more!”