Do poets wander alone “scribbling in notebooks, peering across moors, feeding ducks…?” In “Mary Oliver and the Naturesque,” Alice Gregory suggests that Oliver writes and invites us to ramble with her. As the poet says, “the world offers itself to your imagination, calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting.”
So … yesterday I wandered. After watching reports of far away blizzards, I followed sidewalks dusted with snow. It was my first time out taking photos, because last October I chipped a bone in my foot. Since I am just beginning to paint again, I’m posting this sketch.
Gregory’s article appeared in Poetry magazine on February 16, 2011.
Liz Macklin -- Writer & Illustrator 
I agree wholeheartedly! I see things, and just a word, a color, a snapshot of life starts the wheels turning. My favorite: a pop bottle in the grass after my son died. I picked it up and noticed the customary phrase: “No deposit, No return.” That got me thinking about how much we get out of life and relationships is dependent on what we are willing to deposit into the bank of life. Thank you for sharing yours!❤️
Such a thoughtful comment. I’m so sorry it’s taken me so long to respond. I didn’t expect someone to reply … and then to hear something so clearly from the heart. I heard recently that loss is the opposite of love, because to feel great loss, we must have loved someone or some thing dearly. Thank you.