coffeeandwoodsmoke
thunder (and hurricane popcorn)
the sky, thickly veiled in white smoke, gradually darkened. i paced the house, obsessively looking out the window as the wind picked up,...
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coffeeandwoodsmoke
- Nov 12, 2020
- 2 min
shorter days (and smoky chipotle sweet potato soup)
nights come early now, darkness settling in even before we sit down to dinner. the snow melts; the last aspen leaves rattle and flutter...
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coffeeandwoodsmoke
- Oct 24, 2020
- 2 min
times like these (and chai-spiced almond butter)
i’ve heard it said that winter is never far away in the north country. you can feel its presence just beyond the mountain; hovering,...
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coffeeandwoodsmoke
- Oct 17, 2020
- 2 min
shades of silver (and sweet potato chocolate chip muffins)
and just like that, two more seasons have come and gone. the sweet summer, sunlit and green; the fall, golden and resplendent. the...
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coffeeandwoodsmoke
- Jun 21, 2020
- 2 min
rhubarb in the rain
the morning dawns under cover, accompanied by a steady drumbeat of rain. a low ceiling, not quite grey and not quite white. throughout...
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coffeeandwoodsmoke
- May 6, 2020
- 1 min
spring things, little things (and cacao cinnamon cashew bites)
the neighbor mows his lawn and the air smells sweet; later, spicy as rain releases the balm of creekside cottonwoods. thunder rumbles...
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coffeeandwoodsmoke
- Mar 27, 2020
- 3 min
weather report (and cheater chana masala)
Winter rain, now tell me why, Summers fade, and roses die. The answer came; the wind and rain. Golden hills, now veiled in grey, Summer...
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coffeeandwoodsmoke
- Mar 15, 2020
- 3 min
grinding to a halt
waking up this sunday morning; a sunday morning, in some ways, like every one that has come before. outside a silver disc of sun presses...
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coffeeandwoodsmoke
- Feb 26, 2020
- 2 min
holding pattern (and raspberry vanilla granola)
the last days of february bring with them an ennui, a longing. a yen for color and life and warmth. elsewhere in the country, signs of...
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coffeeandwoodsmoke
- Feb 19, 2020
- 2 min
still (and oat & almond pancakes)
driving over ice-glazed roads under a sky quilted white, seams stitched with blue. contemplating the state of the world, which, perhaps,...
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coffeeandwoodsmoke
- Feb 3, 2020
- 3 min
february (and buckwheat buttermilk cinnamon rolls)
and january is gone, just like that, sliding into the shortest month of the year. february, to me, will always be the...
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coffeeandwoodsmoke
- Jan 19, 2020
- 2 min
january days (and teff & oat biscuits)
There were days And there were days And there were days I know When all we ever wanted Was to learn and love and grow — The Grateful...
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coffeeandwoodsmoke
- Nov 17, 2018
- 5 min
circle of hands
Bow your head down When you break bread together; Close your eyes, Make a circle of hands. — Jeffrey Foucault, Dishes Early morning sun...
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coffeeandwoodsmoke
- Nov 9, 2018
- 3 min
in the company of wolves
“Only the mountain has lived long enough to listen objectively to the howl of a wolf.” — Aldo Leopold, Thinking Like a Mountain Soda...
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coffeeandwoodsmoke
- Oct 9, 2018
- 4 min
woodsmoke
Swing the axe In the hour before daylight Note the sparks That attend to the blade — Jeffrey Foucault, Dishes If I look over the top...
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coffeeandwoodsmoke
- Sep 25, 2018
- 2 min
beyond the country
If you keep driving: beyond the outskirts, past the horses and hay bales, to the far side of split rail fences and civilization. If you...
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coffeeandwoodsmoke
- Sep 18, 2018
- 3 min
town and country
Before I begin today’s post, I would like to extend a heartfelt thank you to those following my blog. Welcome to the world of coffee and...
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coffeeandwoodsmoke
- Nov 20, 2017
- 3 min
reflections on winter
In late October, I returned to Montana after a rather lengthy absence. I returned in time to see the last of the fall colors, ochers and...
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coffeeandwoodsmoke
- Aug 4, 2015
- 2 min
Breath & Bone
There are moments that remind us, that throw into sharpest relief, just how precious and fleeting life really is. Moments that make us...
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coffeeandwoodsmoke
- Jul 16, 2015
- 2 min
I Believe
There are things we believe. Things that ground us. Things that hold us close–more than we can ever hold them. Things divine, that...
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