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I am UmberDove.

And by that, I mean an artist.  One who hears stories in the wind, who paints because it is what her soul tells her to do, who smiths because the muse moves through her fingertips, who loves nothing more than the promise of an unexplored trail, the sound of the ocean in her ears, and scent of a serious cup of coffee.


And I have always been the redwood


In honor of my best poet-crush, Billy Collins, and inspired by his poem, Litany.

I am the scent of rain on asphalt
As well as that of horses at dusk
warmed from the streaming Summer light.

I am the knocking call of the raven
And the silver peep-toe stilettos
And some days
The glossy orange tea kettle as well.

I have never been candlelight at midnight
Or the first wind of November
I am not a red delicious apple
And while their first appearance tugs at my breath
I have never been the crocus.

I am the fruit stand on the long highway
The merry chiming of a palette knife on glass
The cherry blossoms piled like pink snow
in late April, confusing the seasons
And always
Always have I been the redwood.

And what, my friends, are you?