My “Small Batch” Book and the Driftless Market

I am thrilled to announce that my book, When to Hold On, can now be purchased at the lovely local corner store, The Driftless Market and Deli, in Platteville, WI! They offer organic produce, a soup deli, other food items, books, art, jewelry, and more!

My kiddo and I love to stop in there whenever we’re in town or even when we’re passing by Platteville on our way to Galena or Dubuque. It’s such a friendly place and perfect for picking up a wholesome snack for the drive.

If the Driftless Market had existed twenty-five years ago, when I was a student at UW-Platteville, I would’ve loved it–it’s just a short walk from where I lived!

On the store’s website, they write, “Our goal is to provide shoppers with one location to buy all of the products they need while maintaining a focus on environentally friendly and sustainable production and consumption. We are passionate about taking care of our planet and want to serve as a resource for those who feel the same way.”

Well, that’s totally me, and that is why I’m so excited to have my book for sale through the store. One of the reasons I chose to self-publish was so that I could do “small batch” book selling. I did not want thousands of books printed only to have them pulped a few months later if they didn’t sell by a certain target date. I wanted to publish my book in the most environmentally-conscious way I could. That means small batches at a time and selecting independent bookstores and shops that share similar sustainability goals.

Making this book is about celebrating the slower and quieter way of life. It’s about connecting deeper with nature and people. It’s an ode to this beautiful corner of our world, the Driftless Region, a geographical area that was left untouched by glaciers and is known for its rolling hills and cold-water streams, rock outcroppings, bluffs, prairies, and oak savannas.

When to Hold On is a girl-meets-girl story that makes space for quiet people, that looks up close at the beauty in the world, that opens a door to feeling grief in order to heal, that celebrates sustainable living, that’s about family relationships, and explores the power of silence.

Read more about the Driftless Market and Deli here and stop in at 95 W Main Street, Platteville, WI.

Election Day–If Only it were a Walk in the Park

Last week, I took a walk through Owen Park in Madison, WI. Tucked away in a residential area, it’s hard to remember that the city exists just beyond.

Made up of prairie and oak savannah, there was so much beauty that captured my heart.

Now, as I sift through my photos full of sunshine, it rains outside…sometimes suddenly, strong and steady, other times light and misty. It’s a lovely gray November day, so different than these photos, but perfect for sitting inside. The contrast feels wonderful…there are so many different types of beauty in the world.

Things are changing (as they always do). It is November, and so many leaves have already fallen, flowers have turned to seed heads, grass has turned dry–an orchestra of sound in the wind.

Yes, it’s Election Day in the United States of America, and yes, I am trying to redirect my focus as to not go crazy from all the commentary. With so much anxiety riding on this election, there is a sense that whatever I write today, it will be standing on the “before” of whatever happens. And there will be an “after,” regardless of the results. This is a scary thought in itself. So, as I wait, I turn to nature.

I turn to the prairie and the oaks for comfort, wisdom and hope.

I am first reminded to bend

and join myself with the music of life.

To let a lightness fill me, illuminate my insides, and connect to others beside me.

To have courage, to stand out, stand up, be as bright as I know I am.

To also allow myself to be soft, a comfort to myself and others.

To recognize that softness in others can sometimes be guarded by prickles, but it is possible to find.

And that just as amber big blue stem meets big open blue sky,

We, too can meet others different than ourselves and rejoice.

When the time comes, let seeds fall to plant new beginnings.

Let them fly….

We can never go back.

Somethings must fall and drift.

Relish the memories.

Know that the future holds space for new seasons.

This last photo was taken during a very slow walk in Governor Dodge State Park (Dodgeville, WI) in mid-October. This one reminds me…

To Look Up! 🙂

Wishing you well this day and every day.

Each and Every One

This was taken on one of the most beautiful nights during a trip with my family around Ireland this summer. Before heading south, we spent a few days in Northern Ireland and walked along the lovely Ballycastle Beach, a slight curve of land made of many, many rocks and a strip of sand. On one end, the Glenshesk River meets the Atlantic, and at the other end, a boardwalk stretches over rocks that reach into the water. The waves were extremely calm that evening, and it being nearly the Summer Solstice, sunset came just after 10:00p.m. Rathlin Island can be seen in the distance (and although not shown in these photos, Scotland can also be viewed from the beach).

Ballycastle Beach, Northern Ireland

With so many rocks,
it could’ve been easy enough to ignore
their beauty,
to look over, look past,
step across
monotony,
but truly, so many rocks
made walking across in loose sandals
a slow task, and thankfully,
encouraged a moment’s pause,
because with a closer look
remarkable difference
became clear
each and every rock
piled on that beach
just another rock among many
became amazingly new
ancient
full of Story

Ballycastle Beach, Northern Ireland

Softened
by the waves of change
beautiful, unique,
each and every one
among many

Ballycastle Beach, Northern Ireland

Reaching out,
picking up one after another
allowed me the chance
to get closer to their stories
to know them
a little better

Ballycastle Beach, Northern Ireland

Holding each one in my hand
felt like holding a friend

Ballycastle Beach, Northern Ireland

a time to marvel

Ballycastle Beach, Northern Ireland

love

Ballycastle Beach, Northern Ireland

We are like these rocks—
we are one of many
each
and every one
softened by the waves of change
beautiful, unique
full of Story

What’s your Story?

Ballycastle Beach, Northern Ireland

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‘Tis the Season for Snow

Snow came early this year.

In fact, the morning that I wrote my last post was the day it all started. Exactly a month ago, back when we were still in the middle of November, I had at last pulled together my photos and poems about the beautiful fall foliage. The weeks previous to that, I’d let myself bask in the autumn light, watch as Nature shed its layers, and breathe in the changes both startling and inspiring. But it took a while for my thoughts to steep and my words to settle, like tea leaves sinking to the bottom of a mug.

That day, however, I awoke in the wee hours of the morning and felt the burn to finally release those words and pictures. And good thing I did, because after clicking “Publish,” I went to the window and pulled open the shade. In the blue pre-dawn light, I noticed a snow-covered landscape.

Technically, it wasn’t our first snow of the year, but it was much more substantial.

It was as though Autumn had chosen to masquerade as Winter.

Having released my autumn images that morning, I happily put on my boots, grabbed my camera, and tromped into the snow to find new things to see.

My favorite
were these purple asters
looking bold and determined.

Below, they remind me
of snow cones,
refreshing and cool.
Bunches of sweet ice.

Then the days warmed
…and snow melted.

…And a different cold morning
left a layer of ice fringe.

Where even
something so still
—frozen, in fact—
looked as though it
could
perpetually be moving.

When
—in just-above-freezing temperatures—
both ice and water
clung
like crystals and globes,
a chandelier
whose structure was grass
and the light reflected
came from a gray sky.

And under that purple-hued gray
and misty blue,
a frosted prairie
just two years old
stood around
this Great Mother Tree
where
beginnings and endings
come full circle

And today,
she stands in snow,
a map of white and black lines,
ever crooked
with shades of gray everywhere between.

Happy tromping! Happy writing! Happy finding new things to see!

Reflections On the Water

At water’s edge

far from home

a small lake surrounded by trees

morning air, still and cool,

orange-tinged leaves

tell me

in all their silence

to take it slow

Out on the lake,

there is nowhere to go

Nowhere to get to

It is enough

to glide

Enough

to watch water drip off the paddle

Enough

to drift under open sky

Enough

to reflect

~ Kate McKinney