Rains/Pours, or the Snow Equivalent Thereof
So much good news in 2015! I recently learned that one of my essays, "Big Ideas, Small Feet," placed third in the creative nonfiction category of Prairie Fire's annual writing contest!
Many thanks to judge Wayne Grady and the hard-working people at Prairie Fire, who put out a great publication.
I'm particularly excited because this essay came from a year (the first of many I foresee) of reading and writing about the natural world and our--humans'--relationship to it, for which I received a grant from the Ontario Arts Council. It was really fun to encounter many of the fabulous ideas at work in the world and engage with them at the level of the lives we live every day.
One of my favo(u)rite books of the past year, which I consider in the essay, was Braiding Sweetgrass, by scientist and poet Robin Wall Kimmerer. I like science, and scientists, a lot. Their passion for what they do is infectious, and Kimmerer combines her scientist-self with a mother-self and a native-woman-self and a poet-self, all with great humor and honesty. She also writes with hope, which is also infectious, and rare in books about the environment nowadays.
Winning entries from the contest will appear in future issues of Prairie Fire--possibly this summer. You can also read excerpts of all winning entries in all categories here.
Lots to be grateful for this year!
Many thanks to judge Wayne Grady and the hard-working people at Prairie Fire, who put out a great publication.
I'm particularly excited because this essay came from a year (the first of many I foresee) of reading and writing about the natural world and our--humans'--relationship to it, for which I received a grant from the Ontario Arts Council. It was really fun to encounter many of the fabulous ideas at work in the world and engage with them at the level of the lives we live every day.
One of my favo(u)rite books of the past year, which I consider in the essay, was Braiding Sweetgrass, by scientist and poet Robin Wall Kimmerer. I like science, and scientists, a lot. Their passion for what they do is infectious, and Kimmerer combines her scientist-self with a mother-self and a native-woman-self and a poet-self, all with great humor and honesty. She also writes with hope, which is also infectious, and rare in books about the environment nowadays.
Winning entries from the contest will appear in future issues of Prairie Fire--possibly this summer. You can also read excerpts of all winning entries in all categories here.
Lots to be grateful for this year!