There’s No Place Like Home by Rebecca Hart Olander
“There’s No Place Like Home” by Rebecca Hart Olander Finding the screech owl holed up below the canopy of the spindle tree, auburn feather fist in austere bark, my father suggests we turn back for binoculars. I had never seen a daylight owl, only heard the dusky cries, feeling as mice must, quivering in a field beneath wing-blotted stars. Through doubled glass we focus on the russet bird, casting her as an...
Vanishing Point by Melissa Grossman
“Vanishing Point” by Melissa Grossman It is not miles ahead of you where the road narrows. It is not a mountaintop covered by low clouds. Nor, the columns of trees that grow smaller farther down the street. It is a gam of whales swimming just below the shimmering surface of the ocean, and you are whale, and you are water. It is that cloudless blue sky when birds disappear into the deep brightness, and you are...
At Butcher’s Slough by Simona Carini
“At Butcher’s Slough” by Simona Carini (Arcata Marsh & Wildlife Sanctuary) No ducks ply the slough No great egrets glide. Wrung out clouds pattern the marsh in light ink. Air as crisp as cave-cooled watermelon. Silence ambushes me in this quiet place of still water, wood pilings— remains of a mill— an old railway track. If my worries could ride away! My lungs catch a scent I am an egret sensing fish just...
Cathartidae by Lynn Tudor Deming
“Cathartidae” by Lynn Tudor Deming They were feeding on its torso, a yearling By the road in its mottled winter coat, Long hair grizzling the face so its muzzle Was thickened, more like a dog’s–the eyes open. Drawn from their thermals by the scent of death, They straddled the ribs with their talons, White beaks plucking the flesh, a flock Of silent purifiers with no syrinx. When a car passed they rose...
Perfect Kernel by Mary Stike
“Perfect Kernel” by Mary Stike On the house roof, the mild November wind blows my hair as fine as spider’s breath across my face and I find on the rough grey shingles’ surface, a perfect kernel of bright yellow corn. I know my spirit sister visits me, watches me and leaves her golden gift of sustenance and care. Above, a crow, in ascendance in his own web that takes in our garden, scavenged stalks cut down...
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WAVES ALIVE is an immersive experience held tenderly by the ebb and flow of ritual, sisterhood, creative expansion, then surfacing to share what we have uncovered about ourselves and our art.
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Immersion Aug 29, 2025
