Forgot your password?

We just sent you an email, containing instructions for how to reset your password.

Sign in

  • As long as I live, I'll hear waterfalls and birds and winds sing.
    I'll interpret the rocks, learn the language of flood, storm,
    and the avalanche. I'll acquaint myself with the glaciers
    and wild gardens, and get as near the heart of the world as I can.

    ― John Muir

    My stallion snorts his way up the steep trail,
    uncertain in this first snow of the year.
    The silence is vast. Summer sleeps now,
    banished from meadows, valleys, woods.

    The pines are like a memory of pines.
    The stream over there has disappeared
    in this strange new dreaming.
    Ice throws rainbows into the luminous air.

    A sudden breeze shakes down a shower
    of aspen leaves, and coins of pale gold
    fall around us like an unexpected gift of Grace.

    (Photograph by Alex in the 3-D virtual world of Second Life)
    • Share

    Connected stories:


Collections let you gather your favorite stories into shareable groups.

To collect stories, please become a Citizen.

    Copy and paste this embed code into your web page:

    px wide
    px tall
    Send this story to a friend:
    Would you like to send another?

      To retell stories, please .

        Sprouting stories lets you respond with a story of your own — like telling stories ’round a campfire.

        To sprout stories, please .

            Better browser, please.

            To view Cowbird, please use the latest version of Chrome, Safari, Firefox, Opera, or Internet Explorer.