B.B. Boudreau

Novelist | Singer

Return to the Source

Last Day of March. Most of my garden has been cleaned. Only the edges of the driveway remain cocooned in last year’s leaves, a heavy blanket that resists the rake. Those shielding leaves take their job seriously, layering perfectly in alternate patterns, allowing the spring rain to percolate through. When the emerging shoots are finally…

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Calling coyotes in Montana–1980

Wild encounters are magical for those who love wild surroundings and their native residents. I often find myself talking to birds, deer, woodchucks and other animals as easily as chatting with someone in line at a supermarket. The craving for these experiences has led me to episodes which live in my brain like an old…

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Death of a White Pine

I witnessed the death of a white pine today. And while most people have seen a tree fall, there is generally someone nearby brandishing a chainsaw. This was different. I had joined a Forest Bathing session—the practice of Shinrin-yoku born in Japan more than 30 years ago. The practice was created to address social issues…

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