Without being able to put into words why—other than “I want to see this before it’s gone”—I’ve wanted to visit the Florida Everglades for years. I’m ashamed to admit that before I went I knew virtually nothing about it. I imagined a kind of giant swamp, filled with mosquitoes, alligators and pythons.  Happily, what I found instead was a place with its own quiet beauty—a beauty that is more than skin deep. What I was most struck by was the intricate, often invisible, interconnection of life in the Everglades: plants, birds, animals, insects—and ultimately humans—so dependent on each other. And because it’s so interconnected, it’s also exceptionally sensitive and fragile. Threats to the health and survival of the Everglades include runoff of fertilizers as well as other types of pollution from encroaching urban areas, and the invasion of exotic/non-native plants and animals.

A little history: The Everglades once covered nearly three million acres, stretching from just below Orlando, through Lake Okeechobee, all the way to the very tip of the peninsula, as well as east and west towards both coasts. However, it was not always valued, or even understood. In the early 1900s, even conservationists felt that the dredging of the Everglades was the “smart, progressive thing to do.” The wetlands and marshes were seen as worthless, and many areas were dredged, drained, and diked to make way for agriculture and development. (One governor, Napoleon Bonaparte Broward, was elected after running on a platform that included promising to drain the Everglades.)

The Everglades became a national park in December of 1947. According the National Park Service website, “For the first time in American history, a large tract of wilderness was permanently protected not for its scenic value, but for the benefit of the unique diversity of life it sustained. The mosaic of habitats found within the Greater Everglades Ecosystem supports an assemblage of plant and animal species not found elsewhere on the planet.” The park is approximately 1.5 million acres, but the Greater Everglades Ecosystem is much larger than the national park itself.

Kerri and I took parts of two days to explore, and could easily have spent much more time there. The park is huge, and there are many ways to see it: scenic drives, hiking, biking, canoeing, boat tours, and naturalist-led guided tram tours. I highly recommend the tram tour at the Shark Valley Visitor’s Center. I took most of the photos in this post while on this tour. You can bike or hike the 15-mile loop the tram takes if you prefer, but I learned a lot from the guide. (We also took an airboat tour, but it wasn’t nearly as informative as the tram tour.) Some things I learned:

Seven million people (one out of every three Floridians) rely on the Everglades for water.

The Everglades is not a swamp, but a very slow-moving river. It flows at the speed of about 100 feet per day (contrast that with the Mississippi, which at its headwaters, flows at an average speed of 1.2 miles per hour). Talk about meandering.

The Everglades is a UNESCO World Heritage Site and an International Biosphere Reserve.

Everglades National Park is the largest mangrove ecosystem in the western hemisphere, the largest designated wilderness in the southeast, and the most significant breeding ground for tropical wading birds in North America.

It’s the only place in the world where the American Alligator and American Crocodile coexist.

We agreed that the more we learn about natural places like the Everglades, the more questions we have, and the more we want to learn. For me, that’s one of the happiest, most important benefits of travel: discovery and the urge to know more. 

Thank you for reading installment two of Kerri and Kathy’s road trip. I hope you’ll return next week for our further adventures—we’re bound for the Florida Keys!

For more information on the Everglades:

National Park Service

Everglades Foundation

Encyclopedia.com

Friends of the Everglades

The Everglades: River of Grass, Marjory Stoneman Douglas

The Swamp: The Everglades, Florida, and thePolitics of Paradise, Michael Grunwald

“Gratitude is the only thing that will ever make you happy. Without a doubt, if you can master the art of feeling and expressing gratitude on a daily basis, then you will have mastered happiness. It’s that simple: more gratitude equals more happiness.”

—Jason Wachob, WELLth: How I Learned to Build a Life, Not a Resume

I had a visitor last week—my friend Kerri—and we took to the road, heading to Sanibel and Captiva Islands, then meandering through the Everglades, all the way down to Key West. Want to come along? 

Both of us love to travel—to see how other people live, to infuse our creative banks with new sights, sounds, tastes, and smells, and for the change of pace escaping our normal routine brings. I think it’s also fun traveling with different people. I’ve taken trips with my husband, my friend Laure, and now with Kerri, and each trip has a different feel and focus. It’s fascinating to see how other people travel: what they enjoy doing, how they see things. (This trip was especially good for that, as Kerri is an accomplished photographer and she saw much I wouldn’t have noticed.) Also, as we caught up on each other’s lives, I learned how I really felt about certain things as I heard myself talk. There’s something about formulating thoughts and exposing them to a “safe” person that clarifies things for me.

But that’s enough of why we travel—onward to what we actually saw. I’ll break the trip into a series of posts, since it would be unbearably long if I tried to cram it all into one. And before you ask, I didn’t make one sketch—I simply didn’t have enough time in any one place, and I was too tired at night. I took many photos (so many my camera battery died on the last day), and my plan is to make at least one sketch from them.

Our first stop was the J.N. “Ding” Darling National Wildlife Refuge on Sanibel Island, 6,400 acres of mangrove forest, seagrass beds, marshes, and hardwood hammocks. The refuge provides habitat for more than 245 species of birds. We took the four-mile wildlife drive (you can also bike or take a tram), but we could have walked the four miles quicker. We kept stopping to jump out to look for wildlife—we saw white pelicans, little blue herons, ibis, gulls, sandpipers—and our first alligator.  (There will be plenty more gators when we arrive in the Everglades—stay tuned!)

Introduction by Ted Kooser: I suspect that one thing some people have against reading poems is that they are so often so serious, so devoid of joy, as if we poets spend all our time brooding about mutability and death and never having any fun. Here Cornelius Eady, who lives and teaches in Indiana, offers us a poem of pure pleasure.

A Small Moment

I walk into the bakery next door

To my apartment. They are about

To pull some sort of toast with cheese

From the oven. When I ask:

What’s that smell? I am being

A poet, I am asking

What everyone else in the shop

Wanted to ask, but somehow couldn’t;

I am speaking on behalf of two other

Customers who wanted to buy the

Name of it. I ask the woman

Behind the counter for a percentage

Of her sale. Am I flirting?

Am I happy because the days

Are longer? Here’s what

She does: She takes her time

Choosing the slices. “I am picking

Out the good ones,” she tells me. It’s

April 14th.. Spring, with five to ten

Degrees to go. Some days, I feel my duty;

Some days, I love my work.

Regular readers of Catching Happiness know I post a poem here approximately every other Wednesday. I share this simple pleasure in an effort to show that poetry doesn’t have to be the broccoli of the literary world. It can be beautiful, simple, thought-provoking, funny, entertaining—and it doesn’t have to make your stomach (or your brain) hurt.

April 2016 marks the 20^th anniversary of National Poetry Month, so if you’re at all  interested, it’s an ideal time to discover the flavor of different types of poetry. You don’t have to attend a poetry slam or immerse yourself in obscure verse to do so, either. Here are 10 (mostly) simple ways to expand your taste for poetry. Bon appetit!

Combine National Poetry Month with the trend of coloring for adults by downloading a free poetry coloring book.

Who says poetry has to be serious? Enjoy some funny poems, such as the collection I Could Pee On This: And Other Poems By Cats.

If you’re in a book club, suggest choosing a book of poetry—or even a single poem—as focus for a meeting. Or check out this free guide to starting your own “poetry café.”

Sign up for Poem-A-Day, or for a weekly poem via email from American Life in Poetry. (This last is where I get the poems I highlight here.)

Participate in National Poem in Your Pocket Day on April 21, 2016. (You can download a poem for your pocket here, too.) 

Buy a book of poetry, or check one out from the library. Two collections I’ve enjoyed recently: She Walks in Beauty: A Woman’s JourneyThrough Poems, and Good Poems for Hard Times. I also love many of Mary Oliver’s poems.

Learn How to Read a Poem and/or How to Write a Poem. 

Watch a TED talk of a poet reading his or her work. 

Click here to visit Name Poem Generator, type in your name (or someone else’s), and the site will generate an acrostic poem. 

If you write poetry, join NaPoWriMo and write a poem a day, or check out some of the sites participating. (I’ve participated in several 30-day challenges, but I’m not sure I’m up for writing a poem a day!)

Please share with us any poetic discoveries you make this month!

“I, not events, have the power to make me happy or unhappy today. I can choose which it shall be. Yesterday is dead, tomorrow hasn’t arrived yet. I have just one day, today, and I’m going to be happy in it.”

—Groucho Marx

When I was growing up, there seemed to be no chance that I would ever have a horse. Southern California was not the place to own a horse unless you were wealthy, and we were not. I had to content myself with reading about horses, and an occasional trip to the harness races when I visited my dad. Horse books fed my desire for knowledge about horses and gave me details for my daydreams about them. For a very long time, they were my only real connection with horses, and they made a difference in my life for which I’m grateful. 

Here is a list of a few of my favorite books featuring horses. It includes books that kept my childhood dream alive, books I discovered as an adult horse owner (when, astoundingly, my dream had come true), and a few that sound interesting that I haven’t read yet. Even if you’re not a horse lover, these books are fun and/or interesting reads in and of themselves. They might even help you understand why some people, like me, find horses so irresistible.

The Black Stallion series, Walter Farley. I read many of these while growing up, and like many impressionable-but-ignorant, horse-loving little girls, I dreamed of owning an Arab like the Black. I still have my original copy of this book, and I think it’s time to reread it. 

The Bonnie series, Barbara Van Tuyl and Pat Johnson. I adored these books about Sunbonnet and her young owner, Julie Jefferson. The Sweet Running Filly is the first in the series.

A Filly for Joan, and other books by C.W. Anderson. I especially loved the gorgeous illustrations in his books. 

Misty of Chincoteague, King of the Wind, Justin Morgan Had a Horse (and many more), Marguerite Henry. Henry wrote a whole series of wonderful books about horses. I haven’t read all of them, but that might have to change.    

Airs Above the Ground, Mary Stewart. Romance, mystery, and a horse—need I say more?

My Friend Flicka, Mary O’Hara. I just read this within the last year, and was impressed by the quality of writing as well as the story. 

Horse Heaven, Jane Smiley. Of all the books on this list, this one is the most likely, in my opinion, to hold the attention of the non-horse lover. It’s funny and filled with interesting personalities, both human and equine. 

Seabiscuit, Laura Hillenbrand. The true story of Seabiscuit and the people surrounding him (I liked the movie, too.)

She Flies Without Wings: How Horses Touch a Woman’s Soul, Mary D. Midkiff. Using literature, folktales, myth, and the personal experiences of herself and others, Midkiff explores the spiritual connection between women and horses.

Zen and Horses: Lessons From a Year of Riding, Ingrid Soren. A really lovely book in which Soren “captures the essence of what captivates people so about horses—physically, mentally, and spiritually” as she shares what she learned taking riding lessons and studying Zen Buddhism.

Hold Your Horses: Nuggets of Truth for People Who Love Horses…No Matter What, Bonnie Timmons  A sweet and funny celebration of the bond between horses and those who love them.

You may have noticed two glaring omissions from this list: Black Beauty and National Velvet. I read Black Beauty as a child, and have never quite gotten over the cruelty Beauty experienced, so I never read the book again and don’t count it among my favorites. I have National Velvet on my TBR shelf right now. I tried to read it as a child but for some reason it never clicked for me. 

While researching this post, I added the following books to my TBR list:

The Eighty-Dollar Champion: Snowman the Horse that Inspired a Nation, Elizabeth Letts. The true story of a horse bound for slaughter, purchased for $80, who grew into a champion show jumper. 

Riding Barranca, Laura Chester. A one-year journal of a horsewoman's adventures with Barranca and other mounts.

Other People’s Horses, Natalie Keller Reinert. How can I resist a book described as “The Black Stallion for adults”? 

Death By Dressage, Carolyn Banks. A mystery in which the murder weapon is a horse! The first in a series.

The Dark Horse, Rumer Godden. Dark Invader, a disgraced racehorse from England, seems poised to win the Viceroy Cup...until he disappears. Will he be found in time to race?

I love it when my horse and book obsessions meet. (This list could easily have been twice as long, but this is me sparing you.) Do you have an obsession with books about a certain topic? Share your favorites in the comments!

Photo courtesy Bianca Mentil

Introduction by Ted Kooser: When we’re feeling sorry for ourselves it can help to make a list of things for which we’re grateful. Here is a fine poem of gratitude by Barbara Crooker, who lives in Pennsylvania, and its images make up just such a list. This is from her book Small Rain from Purple Flag Press.

Sustenance

The sky hangs up its starry pictures: a swan,

a crab, a horse. And even though you’re

three hundred miles away, I know you see

them, too. Right now, my side

of the bed is empty, a clear blue lake

of flannel. The distance yawns and stretches.

It’s hard to remember we swim in an ocean

of great love, so easy to fall into bickering

like little birds at the feeder fighting over proso

and millet, unaware of how large the bag of grain is,

a river of golden seeds, that the harvest was plentiful,

the corn is in the barn, and whenever we’re hungry,

a dipperful of just what we need will be spilled . . .

American Life in Poetry is made possible by The Poetry Foundation (www.poetryfoundation.org), publisher of Poetry magazine. It is also supported by the Department of English at the University of Nebraska, Lincoln. Poem copyright ©2014 by Barbara Crooker, “Sustenance,” from Small Rain, (Purple Flag Press, 2014). Poem reprinted by permission of Barbara Crooker and the publisher. Introduction copyright ©2015 by The Poetry Foundation. The introduction’s author, Ted Kooser, served as United States Poet Laureate Consultant in Poetry to the Library of Congress from 2004-2006. We do not accept unsolicited manuscripts.

After returning from DC last week, I promptly came down with a cold, and Tank developed a hoof abscess that has required hours of soaking, poulticing, and wrapping. Not a lot of writing has taken place here at Catching Happiness headquarters, so Link Love to the rescue! (We are both feeling much better, thank you for asking.) So without further ado:

Tomorrow, March 20, is the United Nations International Day of Happiness. (I’ve written about it here and here.) Download a free happiness guidebook here—and go forth and celebrate!

The focus of this blog is money, but these tips address deeper matters.

We often focus on striving for goals, trying to better ourselves, or fix things we think are wrong with our lives—but what if your life is mostly delightful? Jennifer Louden answers that question in “How to Stay the Course When Your Life Is Truly Delightful.”

One small way to prepare for the bad days that creep into even a delightful life, make yourself a box of happy things. My box would contain a few coloring pages and colored pencils, some individually wrapped chocolate turtles (or similar), and something funny to read—maybe something by P.G. Wodehouse or Bill Bryson. What would you put in yours?

Mistakes give us the chance to exercise our intelligent creativity, writes my friend Laure Ferlita in “The Gateway to Creativity: Mistakes.” Applicable to areas of life other than art, too! 

I dare you not to say awww at least once during this video:

“When I grow weary of what’s undone or anxious about what’s to come, I remind myself that I am not the maker or the order taker in this life. I am this life, and it is unfinished. Even when it is finished it will be unfinished. And so I take my sweet time. Time is savored when you take it by the hand.”

 —Karen Maezen Miller, Hand Wash Cold

Last week, my husband and I took a quick trip to the Washington, D.C. area to house/pet sit for his sister. We’ve been to DC a couple of times so we were relaxed about our sightseeing plans, mainly looking forward to a break from the normal, to relaxing and being together without worrying about Scout (this is the first trip we’ve taken since we lost her).

The advantage of going at this time of year is that there are fewer tourists. The disadvantage is that some things are closed and there is not much green or blooming, the famous cherry trees still bare branches against the sky. No matter. It was a change of scenery—and cold! (We are so seldom cold in Florida that we like it!) We even got snow our first night. We woke to an exquisitely silent and lovely world. Crocus peeking through the snow, the lamppost wearing a cap of white, trees jacketed with it. My sister-in-law’s neighbors were amused by the crazy Floridian on her knees taking photos. “Pretty, isn’t it?” one of them remarked as she walked by on her way to the metro.

We managed to pack quite a bit into our four full days. Here are some highlights (click to enlarge photos):

The Hirshhorn Sculpture Garden. My husband dubbed this “Pizza Cutter With a Fresh Hairdo”:

National Gallery of Art, where we only took in some of the Dutch, Flemish, and Impressionist paintings and I strolled though the extensive and fabulous gift shop. Watched this artist adding to her canvas, and heard her tell another guest she’d already spent 30 hours on it, with perhaps 20 more to go:

Rested our feet and got out of the cold by taking the Circulator bus ($1 for two hours of hop on/hop off travel) down to the MLK Memorial, new since we were last in DC. Striking figure emerging from the granite:

Paid our respects at the Lincoln Memorial:

Saw the pandas at the National Zoo:

Of course, I had to visit Capitol Hill Books, a used book store just across the street from the Eastern Market (see below)—a completely enchanting warren of rooms packed with books from floor to ceiling. I bought five books and easily could have bought more—only stopping because I didn’t have room in my suitcase.

Explored the Eastern Market near Capitol Hill:

Gaped at the Bonsai exhibit at the National Arboretum. The oldest specimen has been “in training” since 1625:

Explored the streets of Old Town Alexandria, though all the museums were closed because it was Monday (oops):

Thanks to Sally and Ben for giving us the chance for some everyday adventures—we’re happy to pet sit anytime)!

Introduction by Ted Kooser: Nancy Willard, who lives in New York state, is one of my favorite poets, a writer with a marvelous gift for fresh description and a keen sense for the depths of meaning beneath whatever she describes. Here’s a poem from her newest book.

The Vanity of the Dragonfly

The dragonfly at rest on the doorbell—

too weak to ring and glad of it,

but well mannered and cautious,

thinking it best to observe us quietly

before flying in, and who knows if he will find

the way out? Cautious of traps, this one.

A winged cross, plain, the body straight

as a thermometer, the old glass kind

that could kill us with mercury if our teeth

did not respect its brittle body. Slim as an eel

but a solitary glider, a pilot without bombs

or weapons, and wings clear and small as a wish

to see over our heads, to see the whole picture.

And when our gaze grazes over it and moves on,

the dragonfly changes its clothes,

sheds its old skin, shriveled like laundry,

and steps forth, polished black, with two

circles buttoned like epaulettes taking the last space

at the edge of its eyes.

American Life in Poetry is made possible by The Poetry Foundation (www.poetryfoundation.org), publisher of Poetry magazine. It is also supported by the Department of English at the University of Nebraska, Lincoln. Poem copyright ©2012 by Nancy Willard from her most recent book of poems, The Sea at Truro, Alfred A. Knopf, 2012. Poem reprinted by permission of Nancy Willard and the publisher. Introduction copyright 2013 by The Poetry Foundation. The introduction’s author, Ted Kooser, served as United States Poet Laureate Consultant in Poetry to the Library of Congress from 2004-2006. We do not accept unsolicited manuscripts.

Photo courtesy Stefan Gustafsson

You’ve probably heard the term “income streams,” referring to various ways to bring in money. Whether it’s salary, interest or dividends, selling items on eBay or Craigslist, the idea is the more income streams you have, the better. What if we apply the concept to happiness, too?

It’s just as important to have multiple “happiness streams” as it is to have multiple income streams (and a lot more possible, for many of us). The more sources of happiness we have, the happier we can be. And if one area of life isn’t going so well, having other sources of happiness to turn to can be comforting, and perhaps even keep us from becoming downright unhappy.

This blog is mostly about simple pleasures and everyday adventures and how they relate to happiness. I know, however, that there a number of common happiness streams, including:

Health/Vitality. Our health is one of our most precious gifts—to keep it a source of happiness, we need to care for our bodies lovingly, with nutritious food, adequate sleep, and movement that makes us feel good. At the very least. It’s hard to be happy if you just don’t feel well. I’ve noticed that when I feel ill or in pain, my mood often crashes.

Appreciation/Gratitude. When we take time to notice and appreciate the good things in our lives, our happiness levels rise and we tend to notice even more things to be happy about. (What we focus on expands.)

Relationships.  Even for introverts (like me), the people we love play a huge role in our happiness. Our family and friends, co-workers, even the friendly lady at the checkout in the grocery store, can cause happiness to flow.

Accomplishment/Learning.  Working on and completing projects, as well as learning new things, is a major happiness stream for many people. I notice a lift of my spirits when I do something as simple as check off an item on my list of things to do, especially if it’s something that’s been weighing on me.

Fun/Adventure. (Or should I say, simple pleasures and everyday adventures?) It’s essential to program fun and adventure into our lives along with all our work and chores. No doubt making time for the occasional movie, vacation, meal out, afternoon spent [insert your favorite hobby here] boosts happiness.

Spiritual Practice. Whether we belong to an organized religion or pursue spiritual growth independently, many of us find comfort and joy in a spiritual practice.

So you see, we can boost our happiness by opening ourselves to many different happiness streams. I’m generally happy with how my streams are flowing, but in 2016, I’m spending more time cultivating health and accomplishment.

Introduction by Ted Kooser: In this short poem by Vermont writer Jean L. Connor, an older speaker challenges the perception that people her age have lost their vitality and purpose. Connor compares the life of such a person to an egret fishing. Though the bird stands completely still, it has learned how to live in the world, how to sustain itself, and is capable of quick action when the moment is right. 

Of Some Renown

For some time now, I have

lived anonymously. No one

appears to think it odd.

They think the old are,

well, what they seem. Yet

see that great egret

at the marsh’s edge, solitary,

still? Mere pretense

that stillness. His silence is

a lie. In his own pond he is

of some renown, a stalker,

a catcher of fish. Watch him.

Reprinted from “Passager,” 2001 by permission of the author. Copyright © 2001 by Jean L. Connor whose first book of poetry, A Cartography of Peace, is published by Passager Books, Baltimore. This weekly column is supported by The Poetry Foundation, The Library of Congress and the Department of English at the University of Nebraska, Lincoln. American Life in Poetry ©2005 The Poetry Foundation Contact: alp@poetryfoundation.org. This column does not accept unsolicited poetry.

I did something stupid this week. There was no way I could blame anyone else, no way I could weasel out of responsibility for it, or avoid looking my failure straight in the eye. Boy, was it painful. My insides churned with embarrassment, I was disappointed in myself, and it set me back on one of my goals big time. (No, I’m not going to tell you what it was.)

But you know what? I survived. Plus, I realized that my worst-case scenario had just happened, and it wasn’t the end of the world. What a gift! I can (and I will) come back from it.

Into every happy life, some failure must fall. If you have goals, especially big, ambitious ones, sooner or later you will fail. That’s just being human. No one ever succeeds at what they set out to do 100% of the time. As J.K. Rowling said, “It is impossible to live without failing at something, unless you live so cautiously that you might as well not have lived at all, in which case you have failed by default.”

So what can you learn from failure? How can you learn from it? Here are three ways to bounce back from failure:

1. Be courageous enough to think about your failure. Don’t pretend it didn’t happen, or try to twist a failure into a success. Can you figure out what caused your failure? What might you have done differently? In reflecting on my failure, I came up with several small things that came together to contribute to it—one of which was I that ignored my intuition and kept pushing forward when I should have stopped.

2. Get feedback from others. I know this is hard. My ego stomps its feet and storms off when I try this, and I’m not very good at it, but it does help. After my failure this week, I talked things over with someone, and she started me thinking about what I should have done differently (see point number one).

3. Make a plan for what you’ll do next. This will depend on the type and extent of your failure. Will you continue on with your goal, change directions, or stop altogether? I will continue with my goal, but take a step back to bolster some areas that need attention before moving forward.

And, if failure is as painful to you as it is to me, here is one more, all-important tip:

Fail more often. Try new things and different approaches. “Practice” failing. (I know. I don’t want to do it either.) And remember, failure isn’t the worst thing that can happen to you. What would be worse would be not to try at all.

If you love to read, libraries and bookstores give your soul a thrill. If you’re an artist, an art or office supply store sets all your senses tingling. And if you love horses and riding, a tack store is a little bit of heaven—a horse lover’s happy place.

Last Friday, my friend Marianne and I hit the road to visit one such horse lover’s happy place: the Dover Saddlery store in Winter Park.

Dover is an English rider’s dream. I bought my very first horse items from their catalog almost 12 years ago—and I’m still using them! Dover sends out a couple of fat, drool-inducing catalogs each year, as well as a couple of smaller sale catalogs. They opened the store in Winter Park in 2013 and I’ve been wanting to visit since then. When I got a flyer for a tent sale Feb. 5-7, it seemed like a good opportunity to go check it out. Plus I need a new helmet because mine is getting old…you know, any old excuse! Marianne was willing to tag along and navigate, and she was looking for a new halter for her mare, Glory.

When we arrived, sales girls handed us large, clear plastic bags to toss our loot into, and we entered the tent excited to see what bargains we could find. I was only slightly hampered by the fact that I don’t really need anything, other than the helmet and maybe another pair of riding socks. That didn’t stop me from walking up every aisle and examining tempting items like wicking riding shirts, horse blankets, small mesh hay feeders, and yes, patterned socks.

When we were done with the tent, we still had the store itself to explore. As soon as I walked in the door, I inhaled that leathery scent that makes my blood pressure fall and all my stress melt away. When I tell you that we covered nearly every inch of the store, I do not exaggerate. (Marianne has been there before, but she kindly allowed me all the exploring time I wanted.) Breeches, helmets, horse treats, more socks, grooming tools, leather goods and saddle pads…the store was packed with items to tempt us.

Alas, they didn’t have a helmet that fit me properly in my price range, so I’m still in the market. (I did learn that my head shape is more round than oval—who knew?) However, I did find these lovely items:

It was a pleasure to spend time with Marianne, and we talked horses to our hearts’ content. The new horsey items were a bonus. I love my socks and Tank looks lovely in his new purple pad.

Where is your happy place? How long has it been since you visited?

Introduction by Ted Kooser: The first two lines of this poem pose a question many of us may have thought about: how does snow make silence even more silent? And notice Robert Haight’s deft use of color, only those few flecks of red, and the rest of the poem pure white. And silent, so silent. Haight lives in Michigan, where people know about snow.

How Is It That the Snow

How is it that the snow

amplifies the silence,

slathers the black bark on limbs,

heaps along the brush rows?

Some deer have stood on their hind legs

to pull the berries down.

Now they are ghosts along the path,

snow flecked with red wine stains.

This silence in the timbers.

A woodpecker on one of the trees

taps out its story,

stopping now and then in the lapse

of one white moment into another.

American Life in Poetry is made possible by The Poetry Foundation (www.poetryfoundation.org), publisher of Poetry magazine. It is also supported by the Department of English at the University of Nebraska, Lincoln. Poem copyright ©2002 by Robert Haight from his most recent book of poetry, “Emergences and Spinner Falls,” New Issues Poetry and Prose, 2002. Reprinted by permission of Robert Haight. Introduction copyright © 2008 by The Poetry Foundation. The introduction’s author, Ted Kooser, served as United States Poet Laureate Consultant in Poetry to the Library of Congress from 2004-2006. We do not accept unsolicited manuscripts.