I am a winegrower, farmer, writer, photographer, and pop-upeuse. I fell in love with food and wine while living and working in Italy, then returned stateside to create an homage to the people and place that embraced us and taught us so much. That endeavor--the restaurant osteria pane e salute opened with my chef husband Caleb Barber—was where I curated the wine program and became passionate about wines farmed artfully. I began working as a winegrower in 2007, a personal landscape experiment that led me down the rabbit hole of growing and making wine from hybrid varieties focused on regenerative viticulture and low intervention winemaking.
Pioneer Species is a book of poems by friend and farmer-poet Ross Thurber. A small vineyard I work with in southern Vermont, my own agricultural essay and investigation on a sense of place different than my own, is part of Ross’s Lilac Ridge Farm. Like Mary Oliver, Ross is intensely bound to the natural and cultivated world of his farm in which he lives and his poems capture a language that brings forward the light, the shadow, the fog, the till, the butterfly, the flower, the cow. I am constantly inspired by his poems to be out in my own fields and to contemplate and communicate my own place in them. A delicious collection about a deeply personal and lyrical view of farm life.
This collection of poems from Vermont farmer Ross Thurber is divided into four sections: "Green Popplewood," "Sunburnt Juniper," "Stag Horn Sumac," and "Snow Melt, Black Brook." Each section represents a seasonal form of succession that is both literal and abstract. Ultimately the poems in this manuscript have been winnowed to represent a narrative that echoes the idea that, like a lyric poem, stability is only a moment in time―one to be cherished.
Outdoors has always been a nourishing place for me, even when I edged into risky or dangerous places, especially solo. When I got rid of my car (for financial reasons), I found my options to reach outdoor adventures limited. Soon after, I began working in transportation, tourism, and recreation and sought ways for everyone to access outdoor recreational opportunities, regardless of their abilities or any limiting barriers. Slow travel is broadly inclusive, enabling anyone to benefit from outdoor experiences and their transformative potential. Slow travel helped me feel less alone, more connected, more balanced emotionally, healthier physically, and more creative; it revealed the path to Love.
Yes, give me one woman adventuring on a bike. Yes, have her be a nerd (or a geek or whatever)! Yes, have her teach me fun words about butterfly bugs, like frass, imago, instar, and eclose. Yes, have her take me to a mountain forest in Mexico where butterflies hang from trees like moss. Yes, the journey is the destination.
I applaud Dykman’s awareness of resource use, climate change, and connecting the whole sphere of human influence to ecology and the effect that has on the miraculous migration lifecycle of eastern monarch butterflies. It blows my mind that a little bug somehow knows to fly from Mexico to Canada and back when it takes three to four generations to do so.
Sara Dykman made history when she became the first person to bicycle alongside monarch butterflies on their storied annual migration-a round-trip adventure that included three countries and more than 10,000 miles. Equally remarkable, she did it solo, on a bike cobbled together from used parts.
In Bicycling with Butterflies-praised as "poetic" (Publishers Weekly) and called "a collective cry for climate action" (Booklist)-Dykman recounts her incredible journey. We're beside her as she navigates unmapped roads in foreign countries, checks roadside milkweed for monarch eggs, and shares her passion with eager schoolchildren, skeptical bar patrons, and unimpressed border officials. We also meet…
I grew up in a family of nature lovers and went with my parents and my brother on numerous nature hikes. These are my most precious childhood memories. I learned as a child to appreciate nature, I was fascinated by wild animals and inspired by the beauty of the natural world. As I grew up, I became more and more aware of how fragile the natural world is today and how important it is to protect it. This is one of the main motivators for me to create books for kids that will inspire them to love and respect nature.
I loved the characters of the moose, the bear, and the beaver, who go together on a trip full of challenges. At first, they decide to do a race all the way to the top of the mountain, but they get into trouble in a series of funny mishaps. Luckily they are good friends and manage to save each other.
This book reminded me of my family trips as a child, when my dad always enjoyed going fast, while my mom enjoyed stopping to photograph a flower or spot a butterfly. And I–sometimes hurried with my father and sometimes slowed down with my mother. This book shows these two ways to enjoy a trip, but eventually, it proves that the best way is to enjoy the hike together, with good friends or family.
design- and practice-based applied research in architecture, and how students, and both young and seasoned architects, can learn from the innovative contemporary architecture and their architects.
I’m a children’s book author who typically centers humor at the heart of my books but who dipped into heartache to tell this specific story. As a former educator with four kiddos of my own, I’ve been able to witness the myriad ways kids cope with grief, everything from hiding out in blanket forts to holding a backyard funeral service for a beloved pet roly-poly. I hope my book, Where is Poppy? offers kids comfort, peace, and preparation for their own unique journeys with loss. I studied creative writing and political science at Stanford University and hold an MFA in Writing for Children and Young Adults from Vermont College of Fine Arts.
This has been my go-to book for processing loss with our kiddos. It connects the human experience of death to that of animals and plants in a matter-of-fact yet deeply comforting way.
I adore the specific, clear language that doesn’t require abstract interpretation for a small child. There’s a palpable sense of peace that comes with zooming into a range of life cycles and the finality of landing with some version of, “That is the way butterflies live, and that is their lifetime.”
By staring death right in the eye (no, really…there are dead insects galore), it no longer feels so terrifying or out of reach. We all have beginnings and endings, and we are tasked with the living in between.
When the death of a relative, a friend, or a pet happens or is about to happen . . . how can we help a child to understand?
Lifetimes is a moving book for children of all ages, even parents too. It lets us explain life and death in a sensitive, caring, beautiful way. Lifetimes tells us about beginnings. And about endings. And about living in between. With large, wonderful illustrations, it tells about plants. About animals. About people. It tells that dying is as much a part of living as being born. It helps us to remember. It helps…
Two themes run through my book recommendations. First is the lone protagonist against impossible odds. Don’t we all feel this way from time to time in our lives? I’m no exception and still have the scars to prove it, which is why my first novel was intended to promote awareness and prevention of child abuse and domestic violence. Secondly, I’ve had an affinity for speculative fiction (science fiction, fantasy, and paranormal) since I was a child so it only stands to reason that I would be inspired by the likes of Harlan Ellison, Ray Bradbury, Philip José Farmer, Philip K. Dick, and other masters of these genres.
The variety of subjects covered in this collection of 22 short stories demonstrates Bradbury's prowess as a master craftsman and the reason why I count him among my literary heroes.
More than a few of these tales have become legendary, including “A Sound of Thunder.” Bradbury's premise of how the death of a butterfly in prehistoric times could have drastic changes in the future is a variation on the famous “butterfly effect” and a fine example of the relationship between chaos theory and the physics of time travel. For me, the most incredible story in the collection is “The Fog Horn” in which an elusive sea monster attacks a lighthouse after being attracted by its foghorn for years. This story was the inspiration for the 1953 film The Beast from 20,000 Fathoms.
Ray Bradbury is a modern cultural treasure. His disarming simplicity of style underlies a towering body of work unmatched in metaphorical power by any other American storyteller. And here, presented in a new trade edition, are thirty-two of his most famous tales--prime examples of the poignant and mysterious poetry which Bradbury uniquely uncovers in the depths of the human soul, the otherwordly portraits of outré fascination which spring from the canvas of one of the century's great men of imagination. From a lonely coastal lighthouse to a sixty-million-year-old safary, from the pouring rain of Venus to the ominous silence of…
What I love about philosophy (I’ve been a philosophy professor at the University of California, Riverside, since 1997) is not its ability to deliver the one correct answer to the nature of the world and how to live but rather its power to open our mind to new possibilities that we hadn’t previously considered; its power to blow apart our presuppositions, our culturally given “common sense” understandings, and our habitual patterns of thinking, casting us into doubt and wonder. The science writing, fiction, and personal essays I love best have that same power.
The ancient Chinese text Zhuangzi/Chuang Tzu has been translated many times, but Burton Watson’s 1968 version is still my favorite, best capturing the wit and humor of this playful Daoist.
Chuang Tzu constantly pokes at our philosophical and moral presumptions. Reading him, I feel my smugness and arrogance melting away in favor of joyful doubt and wonder. Chuang Tzu dreams he is a butterfly, flitting about, doing just as he pleases, and then he wakes up, solid and unmistakable Chuang. But is he a human who has just dreamed he was a butterfly or a butterfly now dreaming he’s a human?
Instead of rushing about busily, thinking we understand things, maybe we should doze beneath a giant, useless tree in the field of the bright and boundless.
The basic writings of Chuang Tzu have been savored by Chinese readers for over two thousand years. And Burton Watson's lucid and beautiful translation has been loved by generations of readers. Chuang Tzu (369?-286? B.C.) was a leading philosopher representing the Taoist strain in Chinese thought. Using parable and anecdote, allegory and paradox, he set forth, in the book that bears his name, the early ideas of what was to become the Taoist school. Central to these is the belief that only by understanding Tao (the Way of Nature) and dwelling in its unity can man achieve true happiness and…
I so love thrillers because they delve into that area of ourselves that can be ‘safely’ afraid and give you that adrenaline rush that nature taught us is fight or flight. Thrillers teach us lessons, too, about people and the psychology of the most dangerous ones in our society. Through reading into this genre, I learned a lot about life before I even lived it, and I learned to recognize the less wholesome traits that humanity can have. What’s fascinating to me most is exploring those dark sides of the human psyche in order to make comparisons on what is right or wrong with some people’s behavior.
This was the very first thriller book I read, and it terrified me. I was 11 years old when I picked this book up and delved into the world of Fred (who calls himself Ferdinand) and his kidnap victim, Miranda. Approaching this from a young mind, I saw something of romance in the obsessive tale, but that romance soon revealed itself to be a terrifying story of abduction, stalking, and murder.
Why do I still love this book? Maybe it was the first time I realized I wanted to be a writer. But it was stunningly written, provocative, and left me thinking about the characters. It is a classic that should always be in print.
The Collector (1963) is disturbing, engrossing, unforgettable -- the story of an obsessive young man and the girl he kidnaps and holds prisoner in his cellar.
I have loved story since I was little, and I’ve curated a life where it has always taken center stage in some or another. I was a high school English teacher for ten years, and have been a college professor for eight. But what really inspires me to write the books I do is my PhD in mythological studies. As a mythologist, I’m lucky enough to be able to see why stories resonate with us for so long and use those same themes and metaphors to write my own.
I first read this book pre-publication in 2016, and I still think about it at least once a week.
The story is a haunting portrayal of a girl lost in a blended family with a stepmother who treats her worse than Cinderella and a father who only wants to see the shiny surface of his shiny new family. It’s told in a then/now timeline which slowly reveals not only what June did to land her on death row but the abuse she endured that got her there. This one is heavy, but oh so worth the read.
June's life at home with her stepmother and stepsister is a dark one―and a secret one. Not even her dad knows the truth, and she can't find the words to tell anyone else. She's trapped like a butterfly in a net. Then June meets Blister, a boy from a large, loving, chaotic family. In him, she finds a glimmer of hope that perhaps she can find a way to fly far, far away. Because she deserves her freedom. Doesn't she?
I began my career as an assistant nursery school teacher when I graduated from college. My head teacher was my mentor. She knew how to engage children with her storytelling. She also managed to inspire children with an enthusiasm for learning. She challenged each child to develop his/her own individual skills. I loved the way she was able to connect with children, and for me, she was the ideal role model. Throughout my teaching career, I tried to connect with the children I taught. My goal was to reach every child, to stimulate their desire for learning, and to help them develop positive self-esteem in a nurturing environment.
Christmas is. . . sharing with others . . . giving gifts with love . . . enjoying the magic of the season
Join The Very Hungry Caterpillar for a celebration of Christmas and all the ways to wish the ones you love a Very Merry Christmas.
This delightful board book features Eric Carle's bright and distinctive artwork from sparkling stars and snowy scenes - and you can spot The Very Hungry Caterpillar on every page.
With it's festive artwork and gentle rhyming text, this is the perfect gift for Christmas!
There are so many “patterns” in this book about breakthrough thinking. One that has stayed with me is thinking of failure as “tuition.”
I have become a student of “metta.” I was never very good at meditation, but this practice has helped me through some rough times. It might work for you. You’ll enjoy the stories and the quirky way the authors lead you to better thinking.
In The Charisma Myth, Olivia Fox Cabane offered a groundbreaking approach to becoming more charismatic. Now she teams up with Judah Pollack to reveal how anyone can train their brain to have more eureka insights.
The creative mode in your brain is like a butterfly. It's beautiful and erratic, hard to catch and highly valued as a result. If you want to capture it, you need a net. Enter the executive mode, the task-oriented network in your brain that help you tie your shoes, run a meeting, or pitch a client. To succeed, you need both modes to work together--your…
