Fish tales
Myths, legends, literature, lore and love of the watery world of finned creatures
Myths, legends, literature, lore and love of the watery world of finned creatures
Meditations on dementia, dying, growth and change
The Swans of Harlem, accomplished classical dancers, come to light
Author Dave Showalter takes an epic journey along the Colorado River, examining its perils and promise
Anthology explores the quest for acceptance by Black women, gender nonconforming and nonbinary people in nature
Author Shelley Read on Go As a River’s international success and the power of home
Born in Ohio but a resident of Colorado Springs since 1955, Beverly has watched the city grow. Achieving a BA from what was then Colorado State College with later graduate work at CC and University of Birmingham, England, she began a 16-year teaching career, 10 years freelancing and full-time volunteering, before spending 26 years with the Pikes Peak Library District. Author of the teachers' guide, History of the Pikes Peak Region, she is still surrounded by books and serves as a board member with the Friends of the Pikes Peak Library District.
coming storm marks each month of a year in poems. Like Matsuo Basho, the traditional haiku master, Colorado Springs-based poet and teacher Dave Reynolds invokes images of the natural world and seasons. Beginning with January, he reflects upon snow laden scenes, deer in moonlight and impending storms. His family is often the subject. Coffee and spouse’s moods percolate; arguments pave paths like an avalanche. February speaks to resolutions and the pull of unbreakable habits. Yet those moments are erased in a blanket of white, their marks only visible once feet leave a Hansel and Gretel trail. Spring begins with reflections on the past and wordplay: “another year / another columbine shooting / up through the dirt.” Here, Reynolds remembers April 20, 1999, and the Columbine High School mass shooting. He, too, is a high school educator, Chair of the English department at Fountain Valley School in Colorado Springs. In his haiku, he educates his reader, remembering past losses masked in the colors of mountain flowers. Reynolds canters into hopeful summer: “the fog lifts / one by one / horses on the prairie.” He steps outside the indoor classroom to open space. Meadowlarks trill, dandelion seeds blow in the wind and fireflies glow like what once was. As summer fades, sometimes life does too. Reynolds learns by “letting go” those memories, just as he breaks with traditional haiku in both syllable count and topic. Dave Reynolds uses humor, sadness, nostalgia and love to animate his delicate haiku. He dedicates his collection to the women in his life, as well as haiku writers and readers—those that inspire him and keep the art form alive today. — Shelli Rottschafer