Into the Hemlock Forest / Keith Taylor
“We walk down the trail at the edge
of Carp Creek, almost to its mouth,
then wade across.” Keith Taylor spends time in the creek and forest in “Into the Hemlock Forest.”
Issue 1
Fishing in Ann Arbor, 2020 / Annaka Saari
Annaka Saari shares a photo at sunset.
Power Island Killed Me / Christopher Wilson
“As I walked up, I noticed a massive fire pit smoldering by the trailhead.” In “Power Island Killed Me,” Christopher Wilson’s narrator has a new adventure in a familiar place.
Spirits in the Backyard / Keith Taylor
“After the chopping and hauling away were over, the long-lived dryads must have had no place to roost.” Keith Taylor reflects on his backyard in “Spirits in the Backyard.”
Black Crown / Monica Rico
“& of course there are flowers without scent, the ostentatious hydrangeas cover the house lest it not look like the others…” Monica Rico writes on flowers, herons, and walking women in “Black Crown.”
Gardenscape / Lucie Harmon
Lucie Harmon shares photography from peak season in the garden.
Once Upon a Sun-Kissed Erie / Brennan Schilling
Brennan Schilling shares a golden photo.
Sailor Portraits / Stephanie Slat
Stephanie Slat shares three portraits from time under sail.
Beach, Lake Michigan / Annaka Saari
“Sitting in the sand I remember the blue-gray strokes of a painting my grandmother created years ago.” Annaka Saari reflects on time spent at Lake Michigan.
Little Carp River & Watershield on West Bear Lake / Christian Hurt
Christian Hurt shares photography from a road trip through the Upper Peninsula in July.
Sound and Water / Tyler Duffrin
“The cicadas, the birdsong, it’s like a symphony, it’s outrageous.” Tyler Duffrin reflects on our continuous search.
Canadian Fires / Keith Taylor
“The moon is red tonight and there’s a tang of pine smoke in the air.” Keith Taylor reflects on the 2023 haze.
Holy Water / Mitchell Carter
“A consequence of the lasting geometry of sailboats, these pictures capture my experience on our holy waters.” Mitchell Carter shares a photo series.
Watching A Thunderstorm From My Back Porch, My Daughter Turns To Me And Says / Matthew Merson
“In July, thunder swings wider and lightning with no rain means it’s time to dance.” Matthew Merson writes about summer’s air and rain.
To Skip a Stone / Monica Rico
“I swear it was hours, years, we floated, and I touched you like a fish in stillness.” Monica Rico writes about Lake Michigan.
Painting my View / Kaisa Holmstrom
Three watercolor and ink pieces from Kaisa Holmstrom, an artist based in Hancock, MI.
Self-Portrait as Unhearing Jay / Claire Beeli
“I slink like mist to this place, as those before me, to be alone.” Claire Beeli wishes to understand.