Author: Michael Stevens

The wind sends fabric into a billowing wave as it hangs from a clothesline in our backyard. Breaths of air seem to start at the bottom and, like an ocean swell, move upward through...

The Deschutes River courses through a small canyon and is relatively quiet on this autumn day. Waterfalls are softer, signs of reduced streamflows in early fall. Gentle ripples gather into deep silent pools hosting...

It looks like it is snowing outside our home. Velvety gray-white flakes gently fall to the ground, occasionally swirling in a breath of wind before landing. But these flakes are not made of frozen...

Three young mule deer bucks, part of our neighborhood herd, decided to hang in our front yard this morning. They seem to enjoy resting in our mulched xeriscaped area beside a small patch of...

Sometimes we see something over and over again without recognizing it. On this particular occasion, I am hiking up a mountain path near timberline and come across a slope covered in a dense mat...

It is late August and the cool crisp air feels like seasons beginning to change, especially where we are hiking at high elevation in the Newberry Caldera. The trail steeply climbs to the summit...

My mind is not happy today. Nothing I do seems to lighten the mood. The various practices I’ve learned  to settle an unsettled mind just makes my mind more unsettled. It feels like winter...

Once Chuang-tzu dreamt he was a butterfly, a butterfly flitting and fluttering around, happy with himself and doing as he pleased. He didn’t know he was Chuang-tzu. Suddenly, he woke up and there he...

…Very little grows on jagged rock.  Be ground.   Be crumbled, so wildflowers will come up where you are.   You’ve been stony for too many years.   Try something different.   Surrender.  ...

Wildflowers are always new. Every season they vary in form, color, and proliferation. People ask why I go to the same place every year to see the same flowers blooming. I just say, “they...