Robin’s Egg

He comes towards me on the trail
– a big, brawny man with a bald head 
and tattoos on his arms. I turn away 
to take photos of the ferns on the forest
floor and when I turn back he’s passed me.
I glance back at the same moment he glances
back at me. He uses his walking stick
to point to a place on the path near me.
I turn in the direction he’s pointing –
not sure what he wants me to see –
and find myself looking at the remnants
of a tiny, fragile blue egg. A new nestling
has pecked open her shell. “Robin’s egg,”
the big man rumbles in his deep bass voice,
a sweet smile on his face. I smile back at him.
“It’s beautiful,” I say. “Yes, it is,” he agrees.
And he turns and continues down the trail.
– Karen Molenaar Terrell

A Perfect Day

“DAY. The irradiance of Life; light, the spiritual idea of Truth and Love.”
– Mary Baker Eddy

Clara Kitty jumped onto our woodstove (it’s been warm here and we’ve not been using it) and bent over and peered into the window at the front of it. I followed her gaze and saw a little face inside the woodstove looking out at me! There was a little chickadee in there waiting to be set free! I put Clara and Sam the Wonder Dog in the laundry room and shut the door. I opened one of the French doors to the deck and then opened the woodstove door and the little bird flew out, and went sailing towards the dining room. “No, here, Sweetie! Come out this way!” I encouraged her – and she looped back towards me and then winged out the door to the outside and disappeared. I’m so glad Clara saw her, and I’m so glad I was here so I could help her.


What a perfect day! Walked from Fairhaven to the Farmers Market – ran into an old photographer-friend and met a new one. On impulse, stopped in to see a dear friend who works downtown – I’d been missing her and it was so good to see her again! Bought some raspberry honey and cinnamon pecans – and listened to the Farmer Market’s musicians work their magic. Walked back to Fairhaven and then drove home. Took Sam the Wonder Dog for a walk. Mowed my Secret Garden and saw honeybees in the rosa rugosa! (I haven’t seen many honeybees, yet, and was getting a little concerned.) Planted some sunflower seedlings and watered things. And rescued a chickadee from our woodstove. I figured I walked about eight miles today. My muscles feel all stretched and happy, my yard smells like freshly-mowed grass, and there’s a little chickadee safely back with her family after a scary encounter with the inside of a woodstove. Life is good.

Pictures from today…


Adventures in Flying

I used to love to fly. I used to love to strap myself into a seat on an airplane headed to places I’d never been before – Boston, Denver, Arizona, Chicago, New York, Europe, San Francisco. Back in the olden days (the 1980s) I’d maybe call a travel agent, or call an airline directly, and book passage to adventure. In those days getting on a passenger plane was a lot more simple. I know this might be hard to imagine, but in those days you didn’t have to take your shoes off, fit your cosmetics and contact lens cleaner in a little plastic bag, or stand your body in front of a scanner thing. And when you exited the plane on your return trip, your loved ones could wait for you right where you got off the plane. It was very cool.

I worked for a small charter airplane place for a while. Every now and then a pilot would invite me to go up with him for a free ride. One time a pilot-friend invited me to go up for a ride in a Cessna 152 aerobat – the kinds of planes that can perform stunts. Once we got in the air my friend asked me if I’d like to do a loop. No, not really, I told him. But he looked so disappointed that I agreed to let him loop-dee-loop me. And ohmygosh! It was so fun! The earth became the sky and the sky became the earth, and my face did that thing where the gravity made my skin flap. Now THAT was a plane ride!

A couple of times I got coupons for free introductory flying lessons – and of course I had to use the coupons, right? You can’t let those things go to waste.  So I got to fly a little bit on my own while the pilot sat next to me to make sure I didn’t fly his plane into the ground. I enjoyed those free lessons. I never got up the gumption to go beyond the introductory lessons, though.

My first plane ride was a flight around Mount Rainier in a little plane owned and flown by the legendary pilot, Jimmy Beech  – who had been a friend of my dad’s.  I still remember the excitement of that first plane ride – how Jimmy brought us low over the glaciers and meadows of Rainier.

But before I ever got into a plane I was having flying dreams. In my dreams I’d spread my arms like a bird spreads its wings, and then I’d push off from my toes and soar over our backyard. Those dreams were the best.


In the last ten years or so I’ve developed a dread of flying. I dread being told to take off my shoes; remove all metal from my pockets; put the laptop in a separate container; make sure the cellphone doesn’t come through the scanner with me; put all my cosmetics and contact lens stuff in the plastic bag; and stand in front of the machine that checks our bodies for whatever it is that it checks our bodies for.  I dread loading and unloading myself and my stuff from the plane.

Last weekend my husband and I flew from Seattle to Missoula for a wedding. Given my experiences with flying since 9-11 I had some trepidation. But the flights to and from proved to be a miracle of simplicity for us! It was like going back to the days before 2001. For some reason that we still don’t understand, our boarding passes had “pre-check” written on them. This meant we could keep our shoes on, keep our laptops in our backpacks, avoid the machine that checks our bodies, and walk through the metal detector right to our boarding gate. It was awesome.

Once we were on the Alaska Airlines turbo-prop in Seattle there was a little delay because there appeared to be an extra passenger on the plane. But we all had fun with that. I joked, “Well, that can’t be good.” A fellow sitting kitty corner in front of me turned around, grinning, and looked back my direction. I said, “It’s you, isn’t it?” He started cracking up then. Eventually, the flight attendants got it all sorted out and we took off for Montana.

My husband and I were in the very last seats in the plane. We were back where the flight attendants hang out during the flight, and we got to chat with them about hikes around Missoula and so forth. When it came time to serve us our drinks, we were the first people they served. And when the plane landed in Missoula, my husband and I were able to quickly retrieve our bags, and were the first people to exit from the rear of the plane. This, my friends, is what hassle-free flying looks like.

On the way back from Missoula there were nine TSA agents waiting at the security checkpoint and my husband and I were the only people in line – so, with our “pre-check” boarding passes, we zipped through security in record time. I looked over at one of the agents and said, “You’re all here just for me, right?” He started laughing and said, “Yes. We’ve all been waiting for you!”

We had another nice flight back to Seattle – this time on a small jet. It only took 40 minutes for the return trip!


I think I may have re-discovered my love of flying.  I’m telling you – “pre-check” rocks!

Watching People Walk

Sitting in the airport waiting for my flight
watching people walk past me –
a man glides by majestically like
a king walking to his throne
a woman minces by click-clacking
on high heels
one man’s shoulders roll from side to side
as he advances to the baggage claim
and another man lurches  forward
with each step, like he’s pulling a great
weight behind him, and this woman
has a spring in her step
and that man looks to be charging
into battle, and – self-conscious now
about my own walk – I get up to use
the restroom and try to imagine
what my walk looks like to someone
watching people walk through the airport.
– Karen Molenaar Terrell

Claire’s Wedding

Claire’s Wedding

Thirty years ago I was at a wedding –
a beautiful bride and handsome groom
exchanged vows and rings and began
their new life together – not sure what
lay ahead – beginning a new adventure.

Flash forward
And now here stands their daughter
at her own wedding to her perfect groom –
and there’s love here – filling space
to the moon and the stars sparkling
silently above us as this precious day
comes to its happy ending.

The first wedding brings us to the second
wedding – an unending line leading from
love to love to love to love…

– Karen Molenaar Terrell

shine that light

Memories of Moz this Mother’s Day

“Love, the divine Principle, is the Father and Mother of the universe, including man.” 
– Mary Baker Eddy

I’m missing Moz this Mother’s Day. I wish she was here with me so we could watch The Music Man together and laugh at the Shipoopi song. I wish I could hear her talk about her father one more time, and sing the Christopher Robin song with her. I imagine taking her out to my hobbit hole of a secret garden and listening to the birds singing with her. I imagine sitting out on the back deck in the sun with her and talking about family and friends and politics.

When I’d driven her home from the hospital a month before she’d passed she’d smacked her lips together and said, “I want some cream cheese dip and potato chips.” I wish I could give that to her one more time.

I can’t do any of those things with Moz right now – but here’s what I’ve got: I’ve got memories of laughing together, singing together, talking together; I’ve got the lessons she taught me – be kind to everyone; “love the hell” out of the crabby people; treat all of God’s creation with care and respect; be generous; play fair; speak up for the little guy; keep learning; be able to laugh at yourself; be brave; be honorable; have some awesome adventures. I carry Moz’s love with me.

Here’s wishing mothers everywhere a most magnificent Mother’s Day.


So last year in honor of Moz I sent a bouquet of Mother’s Day flowers to a friend who had been very dear to Moz. This year it came to me that I needed to honor Moz by bringing a Starbucks gift card to one of my heroes: The bank manager at Moz and Dad’s bank who had been so kind and helpful and amazing to my parents and I as we’ve negotiated moves and death and inheritance and safety deposit boxes in the last couples years. I seriously do not know what we would have done without Laura in our corner.

When I got to the bank Laura recognized me right away and gave me a big hug and I handed her the card. She told me to come back into her office when I was done with the banking stuff I had to do. When I joined her at her desk she told me that on Wednesdays in Anacortes the schools always start late and so she and other moms have taken to meeting at Starbucks with their youngsters for breakfast. And last Wednesday, Laura told me, she brought chalk to Starbucks for the kids to color the sidewalks. Then she got out her phone and showed me how the youngsters had “bedazzled ” the sidewalks in front of Starbucks. People heard about it and came to look at their sidewalk gallery. If the weather is nice next Wednesday, she’s going to bring sidewalk chalk to Starbucks again. And she’ll have my Starbucks card to get herself something to drink. 🙂

I think Moz would be happy about the Starbucks card – I can imagine her smiling.




I Don’t Know I Can’t

I Don’t Know I Can’t

I’m older than I was.
Grayer. Heavier. Slower.
But the thing is –
I don’t see myself that way.
I still do the things I did –
bike, hike, dance –
because I don’t know I can’t.
– Karen Molenaar Terrell

Karen's twirly dress

Karen in her twirly dress.