As my poem “Fault Lines” reveals, I was born at the sandy edge of the Southern Oregon coast. It was the beginning of January and winter storms heaved forests of Bull Kelp onto the beach, while Grays migrated south from the icy Bearing Sea to warm lagoons in Baja.
I believe my love for the coastal landscape of the Pacific Northwest began with my first breath of sea air. Early on, I felt this landscape was a kindred spirit, and its hold on me only deepened with each move my family made along its coastal edges. Places like Bandon, Port Orford, Charleston, Garibaldi, Florence, Anacortes, Port Townsend, Burrows Island and Port Ludlow.
As a child I wandered beaches alone, rode my horse up old logging roads, hung my head over marina docks, crossed the bar at Coos Bay, dug for clams with small bare hands, built forts from driftwood, sucked the sweet meat from a Dungeness crab claw, ate Salmonberries, fished for bluegills, climbed sand dunes, went to sleep to the sound of a lighthouse fog horn and by each slow accrual, found my “place.”
I believe it was in these places, that the poet in me was born.
And after a life of work, two college degrees, marriage, and raising a family,—all away from the maritime world I loved, I literally sold my house, packed my car and headed home.
And once back, I began to write. I began to understand my own story. I found the girl in me, I had left on the beach so many years ago is now happy writing her poems from a desk that overlooks the Puget Sound, where she can smell the brine of life from the bay below.
Feel free to keep in touch. I would love to hear from you.
Yours in poetry,