A Few More Sentences – 43

Boozhoo, indinawemaaganidog! Aaniin! That is to say hello, all of my relatives! Welcome to another edition of An Irritable Métis. In this case, I am happy to present the FORTY-THIRD EDITION! of the monthly sentences. For those of you new here this monthly edition, where I post the daily, single sentences that I’ve accumulated for the month-just-ended, is based on the practice that ultimately led to my first book, One-Sentence Journal, back in 2018.

It’s a simple practice and fulfilling … and also maybe not so simple as it may seem. Regardless, the practice is excellent training for paying attention to the small moments of my life, and I enjoy sharing those moments here. This remains the best and most consistent aspect of my writing efforts, and something within the reach of anyone who simply wants to be a more attentive participant in their own life. I think the practice is increasingly difficult for most of us in our current nightmarish epoch, which is all the more reason to double down to it. I know I find myself increasing the effort and it isn’t easy.

As always, I deeply appreciate your time and attention. If you feel compelled to offer up a few of your own recent observations in the comments, I would love to see them. If you want to support the work here, you can join all the wonderful people abandoning sending money to Substack1 and BUY ME A COFFEE instead, as a monthly supporter, yearly supporter, whatever works. You can still support the usual way if that’s easier for you too. Miigwech!

2026_0501: Abundant happy indulgent smiles for the center of attention.

2026_0502: Two sweaty miles up the canyon to the cold, quiet pond, and the joy of mountain fish popping the clear surface to feed.

2026_0503: Traversing Waterworks on the sunniest of days, snapping and crackling grasshopper wings at every prayerful step.

2026_0504: The weight of the world pressing in from the glow of the odious computer screen, I took to my front porch to escape, where I counted four goldfinches in the tree with two at the feeder, a small flock of cowbirds, a juvenile bald eagle lazily cruising by just overhead and finally, and most upliftingly, was face-buzzed by the season’s first hummingbird.

2026_0505: A different kind of light through the green halo of the holy place reminds me that stained glass is no prerequisite for identifying a cathedral.

2026_0506: As I look on aghast a large drone buzzes the outer fringe of the OMD, my fingers twitching to deploy heavy shot from the shotgun I don’t even own.

2026_0507: Just when I feared I was going to miss it, the heady blooms of the cherry tree begin to unfold.

2026_0508: It gives me pleasure to consider that in the midst of whatever the lives of my neighbors are like, likely with plenty of traumas and unnecessary dramas, they make time to include welcoming our migrating relatives to their yards, via feeders and little houses and even wind chimes, and feel compelled to engage in some beautiful and meaningful way, consciously or not, with the wider world beyond their doors.

2026_0509: A long traverse across a meadow not yet visited by its full bloom of wildflowers, I feel I could saunter so all day, and nearly did.

2026_0510: Leaving home in the midafternoon, the bright flowers of the cherry tree continue to open as wide as they can to the warmth of the sun, the air all but shimmering with the vibrations of countless lusty bees.

2026_0511: Another vet has called to say the ashes are in, and now it’s time to bring Cheeto home.

2026_0512: Heartstrings pulled as if by the precise hands of a practiced archer trained in the draw of only the mightiest of bows.

2026_0513: The evening breeze is plucking all the bright petals from the cherry tree and delivering them, certainly, to relatives who needed to see them this spring as much as I did.

2026_0514: Afternoon gate area a hubbub of performative loud talking from a wannabe Board of OWGs determined to out-credential one another.

2026_0515: Oh so tiny surrounded by the massive splendor of Alaska.

2026_0516: As rank-and-file humans elbow and push for scraps dangling through the gnarled fingers of the ones we’ve blithely surrendered too much power to, you can almost see the chuckles from the faces of these 200 million year old mountains.

2026_0517: Fish, chips, and a brace of Alaskan ambers in the generous company of a magnificent relative.

2026_0518: So chatty this morning, pheasants and cranes.

2026_0519: Awake in the dark, the gale outside churning the dark waves of both bay and brain.

2026_0520: Returned to the melancholic solitude of driving, rain and splendor appreciated from the dry side of the windshield.

2026_0521: Taking a roadside nap at a pullout next to Kashwitna Lake, the downpour can’t stop me from cracking the windows so that the low back-and-forth singing of a pair of loons bobbing on the surface just yonder will lull me to sleep with a big smile on my face.

2026_0522: Every time I spend a day devoted to the cavalcade of indignities inflicted by air travel, after all the herding and sweating and lugging and hauling – and waiting, so much waiting! (not to mention the ecological price of the entire soulless industry) – I question how many trips I really have left in me.

2026_0523: An exercise in considering impermanence, the disappearance entirely of the cherry blossoms in the week I have been absent.

2026_0524: With the arrival of the sun, the nighttime demons representing every imaginable anxiety who pursued me all night retreat to wherever it is they lair, their unreasonable hungers hopefully sated for a while.

2026_0525: If the controlling nature of air travel has me desiring to swear off flying, it is the senseless cruelty of so much roadkill that makes me want to abandon cars too.

2026_0526: A cavalcade of dudness.

2026_0527: “They weren’t stingy!” says a Cree elder of his elders and their approach to sharing language and tradition, a sentiment that exemplifies perfectly something we must journey back along the trail to retrieve in order to ensure our future.

2026_0528: Nothing reinvigorates my desire to dwell within a tiny shack or renovated shipping container more than does spending time in an overblown monstrosity of a “beautiful” home.

2026_0529: Weary and stress-hangovered, solace is found as it so often is within the cool oval of a large plate heaped with a greasy breakfast.

2026_0530: The steady rain overnight has saturated the world in the deepest green.

2026_0531: Meditation practice as deep attention to the layers and layers of overlapping birdsong during my morning coffee sit is good enough for me.