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Walkin In a Spider Web

Chelsea Bradway <p> Chandelier pieces, wire, and fishing line </p><p> $1,500 Inquiries: artonthetrails@gmail.com </p><p> Repurposed chandelier crystals and an upcycled film reel form a sculptural spider web glimmering with stories of connection, resilience, and growth. The crystal fragments—once suspended in private spaces—now radiate outward as points of shared light, reflecting how individual experiences touch others. The film reel anchors the web, reminding us that memory, history, and community are inseparable threads. An invitation to consider how we build, mend, and sustain one another—how our shared stories, hopes, and vulnerabilities form the luminous webs that hold us all.</p>

Throughout the month of September, I’m taking the time to appreciate various forms of art and to be inspired by the creativity and thought that goes into each work – whether it’s a painting, a sketch, a collage postcard, or a structure created in nature along a trail. This week, I’m sharing poems that were inspired by Art on the Trails. Today’s ekphrastic poem is in response to Chelsea Bradway’s Walkin in a Spiderweb that you can read more about here. I chose a Huitian as my form, thinking of the eight legs of a spider and how poetic form can become a part of the overall impression when paired with visual art. A Huitan has eight lines of eight syllables, and this one has a rhyme scheme of abbaacca.


Crystal Chandelier Delight

one spider spins a web of light

to reach into our darkest fears

shares stories told throughout the years

then turns to others to invite

their own connections and insight

together, then, they all reach out

climb far beyond the waterspout

weave crystal chandelier delight

If you’d like to know more about the project, visit this page and watch the videos that were created to show how the shared vision became a reality. This makes me want to create a similar event in my own community. I have a trail in mind – a trail created in memory of a former student whose parents are my former colleagues. I just wonder……could we do the same thing here, inviting artists to create works of art, and poets to write poems inspired by that art, and then walk along a trail in celebration of it all?

I think that would be a beautiful thing to do!

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House of Straw

Pam Bonaguide <p> straw, old cedar shakes, Pal Tiya, wood, paint, wire, glue, string </p><p> $5,900 Inquiries: artonthetrails@gmail.com </p><p> You stand in front of a small straw house, about six by seven feet and ten feet tall, built on a simple wooden frame. Straw fills the walls, held in place by metal screen, while the roof is covered with old cedar shakes. As summer unfolds, the straw shifts in color, fading in sun and darkening in rain. Like the house in the nursery rhyme, it isn’t meant to last. The piece reflects Time in the Landscape, marking change as it slowly weathers and becomes more a part of its surroundings, shaped by season, memory, and the natural world.</p>

House of Straw

a house for today

out of the wind’s and rain’s way

for pig or for wolf

characters seeking shelter

we all need our own safe space

I enjoy writing poetry using art as inspiration, and that’s what Art on the Trails invited poets to do for their 10th Annual event in Southborough, Massachusetts. I read about the process and learned that once the artists were selected and their works installed along the trail, organizers invited poets to write ekphrastic poems inspired by the art, and then a poetry juror and the artist would select two poems for each piece of artwork to be published in this year’s chapbook.

That’s the sort of writing that makes me happy, so I decided to accept the invitation. I scrolled through the works of art and selected four that were particularly inspiring. The House of Straw took me back to my favorite childhood storybook days, and The Three Little Pigs came to mind, of course. I wrote a tanka with a variation of a borrowed line from Padraic Colum’s “An Old Woman of the Roads” in response to Pam Bonaguide’s work House of Straw as part of this year’s Time in the Landscape theme. 

You can hear the audio clip of my poem here:

This is one of four poems that I submitted for the works of art along the trail, but this one was not selected for publication. I’ll share the poem that the artist and poetry juror selected on Sunday, when the gathering of artists and poets will happen beside each work of trail art in Southborough during a progressive trail walk. Though I will not be able to be there in person for the closing event this year, I’m celebrating in spirit as the week leads up to the closing event on Sunday.

For today, may we all know our own safe spaces. As I see it, there are no safer spaces than the pages of books …..and nature trails with art, poetry, and fireflies.

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Ekphrastic Art: Time in the Landscape Signposts Tanka

Art on the Trails is a unique celebration of art in nature and poetry that takes place at the Elaine & Philip Beals Preserve in Southborough, Massachusetts each year, and this will be the ten year anniversary of this event. In the first phase, art is selected by an art judge who announces the 16 winning works for installation along the nature trail, and then in the second phase, two poems are selected by a poetry judge and the artist to go along with each work of art. You can read about the poetry process here. I responded in verse to four of these works of art along the trail this year and submitted them for chapbook publication. I’ll share my poem that is selected to appear in the chapbook on the scheduled day of the event finale on Sunday, September 13.  I will be unable to be there in person to read my poem at the progressive walk, but I have shared a video recording with event organizers and will share that here as well. Today, I’m sharing the tanka I wrote in response to Mike Libby’s work Here and There and Now and Then as part of the 2026 Art on the Trails: Time in the Landscape. 

Signposts Tanka

signposts guide our way~

here and there and now and then

we choose our own paths

today, tomorrow, later

tonight, forever, always

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Rattle’s Ekphrastic Poetry Challenge

Throughout the month of September as we officially welcome the start of the fall season, I’m sharpening my awareness and appreciation of the art and nature around me. This week, I will share five ekphrastic poems that I’ve written in response to works of art. These five poems were all submitted for publication to various calls for poetry I found through Submittable.com in the Discover tab, and of the five poems, one was accepted into a poetry chapbook celebrating works of art in nature. I’ll share the poem selected for publication one week from today.

For the month of July, Rattle’s Ekphrastic poetry prompt was the piece below by Leslie Ann Aguillard. Find more about the artist here. My poem is beneath this image. I didn’t win or place with this nonet, but Rattle hosts a monthly Ekphrastic challenge that writers love, and we all win when we write. We just don’t all get that $15,000 prize for the big contest or the $100 for the monthly challenges……

Wrong Number Nonet

another wrong number again, truth

beginning to set in like knives

each piercing deeper into

memories of warnings:

he can’t be faithful

….don’t marry him!

she knows now ~ 

.

.

.

they were

right

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Labor Day Camping

Camping Tanka

on our favorite

campsite at our favorite

campground, reading books,

snuggling dogs, watching movies

sipping coffee, holding hands

We’re traveling more in my retirement, but the way my husband sees it, the only way we’ll stay home as much as he likes is if he keeps working, so he’s not taking the Social Security option just yet. He knows I’d pare down what’s in the house and sell most everything and take to the open road in the Wayfarer if it were up to me. I’d take us two plates, two mugs, two spoons, two forks, and two knives. I’d pack three pairs of jeans and six t-shirts, plus two pairs of sweatpants and a thin sweatshirt for pajamas. My camo Birkenstocks, one pair of sneakers, and my trusty Ugg slippers would be in my shoe cabinet. That’s pretty much how my two prescription medications and my favorite toothbrush and I would live for six months out of the year – until all the trees have grown tall enough to give us back our woodsy cocoon we once called home before they were harvested to go off and realize their ultimate destiny as telephone poles, the poor things.

In my best estimation, we’d travel by day, stopping for groceries on our way to wherever we’d camp for two or three nights. We’d take morning hikes and go exploring with the dogs, I’d press flowers between the pages of books and sketch them for watercolor paintings and bookmarks, and then we’d build campfires to sip coffee by, read books for hours, watch movies, and listen to music. I’d have to play Mahjong with bots on the computer unless I came across a group of three players needing a fourth; otherwise, we’d play Phase 10 so I could stay perpetually confused about what to discard.

We’d stop at every festival along the way so we could check out all the jams, preserves, and pickled things they’d be selling, and we’d buy some for our morning toast, along with a dozen free-range fresh eggs. And we’d throw in some homemade soap, too, probably made with the goat milk of someone’s backyard herd. It would smell like crisp mountain air with a hint of breezy wildflowers. Then we’d opt for a caramel apple instead of a funnel cake and sit in a bentwood rocker and watch the cloggers and banjos for a while before Wayfaring along on our merry way, humming some bluegrass tunes .

For today, though, we’ll watch Secondhand Lions and Arthur the King with dogs in our laps snuggled under fleecy throws, and I’ll be reading The Year of What If by Phaedra Patrick since that’s what popped up for me on Libby. Yes, for today, we’ll only have a little pat of Kerrygold tub butter on our cinnamon raisin bagels – – none of these festival preserves that must wait for another time……

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Digitizing the Family Photographs

I’ve been digitizing family photos, getting rid of hard copies of pictures that require closets full of storage. We’ll save space and put these on thumb drives, allowing each family member to have access to all the photos instead of splitting them up. It has always been difficult for me to see my own resemblance to family members through the years, but in my younger years everyone said I looked just like my dad. As I’ve aged, though, and especially when I’m wearing contacts instead of glasses, I’m often told I look like my mother.

My husband and I recently met my dad’s sister for lunch on the way home from a camping weekend, and she remarked how I looked like my mother………and when you hit 60, that feels different than it ever has before.

Lunch with My Aunt

when your aunt tells you

you look just like your mother

you cry, smile, laugh, sigh…

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Spiritual Journey Thursday: Rhythm

it takes a rhythm

to create healthy habits

to remain in sync

Ramona is our host this month for Spiritual Journey Thursday (SJT), and she invites us to reflect on rhythm. You can read her post here.

When I think of rhythm, I think of cycles associated with biorhythms, seasons and times, and cycles of nature. This verse from Genesis comes to mind:

Genesis 1:14 ESV

And God said, “Let there be lights in the expanse of the heavens to separate the day from the night. And let them be for signs and for seasons, and for days and years….

I think of things having an appointed time in the rhythm of life when I consider the verses in Ecclesiastes that are so iconic to seasons and turning.

Ecclesiastes 3:1 ESV

For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven:

Rhythms and cycles play an important role in balance and harmony of living. Having a rhythm to each day, each week, each month is an important part of life, whether we are working or retired – rhythms are like schedules, habits, and time management. One of the first things I had to do in retirement was create new routines. A new prayer time topped my list, since my prayer chamber used to be my drive in to work and now that I’m not going there anymore, I needed a new designated time that would be consistent. I chose coffee time since there is a rhythm to that regularity and, to some degree, a consistent morning time frame – – and, like coffee, I need prayer at the top of the day. I have discovered in this new routine that I like to see steam rising from my mug as I say prayers, as if what is coming from my lips is swirling in a steam mist upwards to heaven in the quiet, relaxed rhythms of the morning.

HELLO! and HELP!

someone stranded

on a desert island

sends smoke signals

I send prayers

from the porch

fresh from my lips

vapors rising

to heaven

A special thanks to Ramona for hosting this month and inspiring us to think of the rhythms in our spiritual lives.

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Cascadia Postcard Poetry Fest 2026 Grand Finale Celebration

Last night’s Cascadia Labs Poetry Postcard Fest 2026 Grand Finale Celebration over Zoom gave poets from around the world an opportunity to share their visual works of art and their poetry with everyone in attendance. It was a festive evening hearing the voices of the poets reading their original poems and sharing how they created their cards. While I did not register to read in the evening of sharing, I will begin sharing the postcards that I sent as part of the Poetry Postcard Fest later this month on the blog. It isn’t easy fitting a handwritten poem on a postcard, but short forms like haiku make it less challenging.

I don’t want it to end, so I found a new poetry postcard group beginning this month – – and also registered for the 2027 Cascadia Postcard Poetry Fest, 11 months in advance.

why can’t every day

be a poetry postcard

day full of word gifts?

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Autumn Cometh

I enjoy making fabric postcards for the Poetry Postcard Fest

Ahhh, the month of the Autumnal Equinox when we officially welcome fall and the cooler temperatures begin to tease us. Hobby Lobby has been tempting us for months to put out all the colors and scents, and grocery stores have been selling pumpkin spice everything for weeks on end, but this month assures us we can accept all those invitations to put the leafy wreath on the front door and invite fall into our homes, along our stair rails, and into our hearts. We can start fluffing our sweatshirts and get out our boots. We can change our summer Birkenstocks for the fall and winter pairs.

With all the cool weather ahead, what could be a better way to celebrate this favorite season than by focusing on the art and beauty that surrounds us? This month, I’m participating in another poetry postcard exchange that may interest other poets as well. Here is the information about how those who’d like to participate can jump onboard for the next round starting in October (see the photo below). This one is free, unlike Cascadia, and it’s fun to send out poems and receive postcards from all over the world. It’s a great opportunity to create small works of art on postcards to share with others.

Simply email Barbara Robinette at rosablue722@gmail.com for more information. Join the fun, and celebrate postcard poetry! And if you don’t want to join the postcard group but would still like a postcard with a poem, I’m happy to send you one! Just email your address to Kimjohnson66@gmail.com

postcard poetry

is one small, powerful act

of sharing kindness

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Lookout Mountain Railway Incline

Chattanooga, Tennessee is home to the steepest railway incline in the world, and every time I’ve driven past the exit to go there, I always think I’d like to ride it someday.

That day was yesterday.

I was a little worried that the weird angle and any sort of strange movement might mess with my vertigo and send me into a tailspin, but it turned out that there was nothing off-kilter like strange turns or centrifugal G-force pulls to set me off. I loved the view of Chattanooga from the top and the supreme minus sausage, extra mushroom please at SoHi pizza and thought of a favorite Bible verse as I took my first bite.

For I was hungry….

Matthew 25:35

My husband studied the photos of the railway from the 1800s to the present; he loves photos that show progression of a place through time. What we didn’t know is that you can ask to be shown the machinery room and they will let you see it. We read this on a card at the bottom of the railway once we got back down to the bottom of Lookout Mountain. We thought our tickets might have worked to get back up there again but kept our pace for getting home to Georgia from our trip to Nashville with enough time to unpack and unwind before time for bed.

For I was hungry

and the pizza was there, Lord,

and I ate it all.

….but I managed to avoid the fudge counter with about twenty different types of handmade fudge including toffee and peach and peanut butter and dark espresso, so despite the temptation, I did show a little food control. And I didn’t even turn my head when I walked past all those Moon Pies.

One last stop was the Chattanooga Choo Choo, just to see the iconic building and its amazing architecture. This building is on the National Registry of Historic Places, and even the bricks on the facade are intriguing to study. We parked and walked around for just a few minutes before hopping back on I-24.

And just like that, when we finally made it home, our heads hit the pillow, exhuasted from a whirlwind trip that sapped our energy but left us with great memories. On this last day of my first full month of official retirement, I can confirm that retirement is a lot like a great trip in that way. You get up ready to go, you go, go, go, and then you crash and sleep on your bed (which is now your charging port) to recharge for the next thing you’ll want to do….whatever that turns out to be.