Moment of Zen: Gym Selfies

Pic of the Day

First Day of Spring🌺…or Is It?❄️

Today is the vernal equinox—the official first day of spring. Day and night are in perfect balance, and from here on out, the days will keep getting longer. After a long Vermont winter, that alone feels worth celebrating.

And honestly, March has been unusually kind to us this year. It’s been warmer than usual, and much of the snow has already melted away. For a moment, it almost feels like spring has actually arrived on time.

But if you’ve lived in Vermont long enough, you know better than to trust that feeling.

So the question becomes: is this the first “fake spring”? It probably is.

Because while it may feel like spring, nature doesn’t seem entirely convinced. The trees are still bare—no green buds yet, no real signs of new growth. It’s like everything is waiting… just a little longer… before committing.

And then there’s the forecast. Snow on Friday. Snow again on Sunday. Vermont reminding us not to get too comfortable just yet.

Still, for the foreseeable future, our highs are supposed to stay above freezing, and that’s no small thing. The air feels different. The light lingers a little longer in the evening. There’s a subtle shift happening, even if it hasn’t fully revealed itself yet.

Spring is in the air—or at least teasing us.

Of course, in Vermont, spring also means mud season, which is not exactly the most glamorous time of year. But it’s part of the process. The in-between stage where winter gives way to something new.

If autumn is the most beautiful season here, I think spring might be the second—if you’re willing to overlook the mud.

So for now, we wait. We enjoy the warmer days, even if they’re temporary. We keep an eye on the forecast. And we remind ourselves that sooner or later, the green will come.

Even if Vermont makes us work for it.

Have a great day everyone!

Pic of the Day

Sleeping In

Since I’m working from home today, I was able to sleep in a bit. When Isabella started trying to wake me, I fed her and then went back to bed. I managed to get an extra hour and a half of sleep. Of course, when I finally did get up, she was more than ready for me to join her. I’m never quite sure whether she doesn’t want me to oversleep or if she just wants me in the living room where she is.

She has always preferred being in the same room as me. That doesn’t necessarily mean I can always see her or even know exactly where she is, but she knows I’m nearby, and for her, that seems to be all that matters.

People often say that cats are aloof, that they do their own thing and care about little else. I’ve never found Isabella to be that way. Unless I get home much earlier than usual, she is almost always at the door when I come in. If I’ve been away, she seems like she can’t get enough of me afterward. She is a very faithful companion, and I feel lucky to have her in my life—though I do sometimes question that at 3 a.m. when she decides she needs to be fed.

In this week’s Isabella pic of the week, the image may not be perfectly focused, but it captures something better—a quiet affection in her eyes as she looks at me.

Pic of the Day

Running on Empty (But Still Running)

Yesterday was a busy, exhausting day. By the time I got home, all I wanted to do was crash.

I talked with Susan for a bit, watched the news and Jeopardy!, and tried to read for a while. But I kept catching myself reading the same paragraph over and over again, my eyes drifting closed between sentences. Eventually, I gave up and fell asleep almost immediately.

Apparently, Isabella decided I needed the extra rest. She waited until after 4:00 a.m. before making a halfhearted attempt to wake me. After a few minutes, even she seemed to give up, and I managed to sleep until 4:45 before she determined I was finally awake enough—and, more importantly, that she needed to be fed.

So, I got up.

Even after coffee and breakfast, though, I still feel like I could go right back to sleep.

Unfortunately, that’s not an option today. I have to go into work for a meeting and a public program that I’m hosting. I’m hoping today won’t be quite as exhausting as yesterday, but if it is, at least I have something to look forward to—working from home tomorrow.

Normally, I work from home on Fridays anyway, but this week got shuffled around because of coworkers’ medical appointments. Still, the thought of a quieter morning tomorrow (assuming Isabella allows it) is enough to get me through today.

Let’s just hope she sleeps in.

Pic of the Day

Requiescat

Requiescat

by Oscar Wilde

Tread lightly, she is near

Under the snow,

Speak gently, she can hear

The daisies grow.

All her bright golden hair

Tarnished with rust,

She that was young and fair

Fallen to dust.

Lily-like, white as snow,

She hardly knew

She was a woman, so

Sweetly she grew.

Coffin-board, heavy stone,

Lie on her breast,

I vex my heart alone,

She is at rest.

About the Poem

On the surface, “Requiescat” is a quiet elegy. The title itself is Latin, meaning “may she rest,” from the familiar phrase requiescat in pace—“rest in peace.” The poem speaks softly, almost reverently, as the speaker mourns someone young who has died. The repeated instruction to “tread lightly” and “speak gently” creates a sense of hushed grief, as if the poet fears disturbing the peace of the dead.

What makes the poem so striking is its restraint. Rather than dramatic declarations of sorrow, Wilde offers images: snow, daisies, golden hair turned to rust, the weight of the coffin-board and stone. The poem moves quietly from life to death, from youth and beauty to the stillness of the grave. The final line—“I vex my heart alone, / She is at rest”—captures the loneliness of grief. The dead have found peace; the living must carry the sorrow.

Although the poem appears to mourn a woman, many readers today feel something deeper and more complicated beneath its surface. Wilde often wrote about beauty, youth, and loss with a sensitivity that resonates strongly with queer experience—especially the sense of loving deeply in a world that did not always allow such love to be openly expressed. The line “I vex my heart alone” feels almost like a confession of private grief, the kind of emotion that must remain hidden.

Whether Wilde intended the poem to carry such layers or not, it reflects something universal: the quiet sorrow of loving someone whose presence is now gone. It is a reminder that grief is often most powerful when it is whispered rather than shouted.

About the Poet

Oscar Wilde was born in 1854 in Dublin, making him one of Ireland’s most celebrated literary figures. His mother, Jane Wilde, was herself a poet and Irish nationalist, and the young Wilde grew up surrounded by literature, politics, and intellectual debate. He later studied at Trinity College Dublin and Oxford before rising to fame in London as a playwright, novelist, and poet.

Today Wilde is remembered not only for his brilliant wit and works such as The Importance of Being Earnest and The Picture of Dorian Gray, but also as one of the most famous queer figures in literary history. In 1895 he was prosecuted and imprisoned for what Victorian England called “gross indecency,” a charge stemming from his relationships with men. The trial and imprisonment destroyed his career and ultimately shortened his life, but they also transformed him into a lasting symbol of both artistic brilliance and the injustice faced by queer people in the past.

As we celebrate Saint Patrick’s Day, Wilde stands as one of Ireland’s most distinctive voices—an Irishman whose sharp intellect, aesthetic sensibility, and emotional depth helped shape modern literature. His life reminds us that Ireland’s cultural legacy includes not only great writers but also queer voices whose stories were once silenced.

Reading Wilde today, especially poems like “Requiescat,” allows us to hear that voice again—soft, lyrical, and deeply human. In its quiet meditation on love and loss, the poem offers something timeless: a reminder that beauty, grief, and memory are part of what connects us all.

Pic of the Day

Monday Again

It’s Monday again, and it was very hard getting up this morning. Isabella finally convinced me to wake up, and I sat on the side of the bed for a few minutes before promptly laying back down and going back to sleep. Isabella was not amused. She made her displeasure quite clear, but I simply put a pillow over my head and continued to ignore her.

Eventually, I sat up again, and this time I managed to get out of bed for good—mostly because Isabella was not going to let me forget that she had not been fed yet. Once her breakfast was served, peace was restored in my apartment.

I’m still not entirely happy about being awake, but I have a busy few days ahead. Work is going to keep me moving today, tomorrow, and Wednesday, so it’s shaping up to be a bit of an exhausting week. Hopefully everything will go smoothly.

In the meantime, the coffee is hot, Isabella is fed, and the day has begun whether I like it or not.

Have a great week, everyone!

Pic of the Day

Growing Into the Life God Calls Us To

In 2 Peter 1:5–8, the apostle Peter describes what spiritual growth looks like in the life of a believer:

“For this very reason, make every effort to supplement your faith with virtue, and virtue with knowledge, and knowledge with self-control, and self-control with perseverance, and perseverance with godliness, and godliness with mutual affection, and mutual affection with love. For if these qualities are yours and are increasing, they keep you from being ineffective or unfruitful in the knowledge of our Lord Jesus Christ.”

Peter presents faith not as something static but as something that grows and develops. Faith is the beginning, but it is meant to mature into a life marked by goodness, wisdom, discipline, perseverance, compassion, and ultimately love.

This passage can be especially meaningful for LGBTQ+ Christians. Many of us have been told—sometimes directly and sometimes indirectly—that who we are prevents us from living a faithful Christian life. Yet Peter’s description of spiritual growth says nothing about identity, orientation, or social expectations. Instead, he speaks about character and love.

The qualities Peter lists are accessible to anyone who seeks to live a life shaped by goodness and compassion. They grow from faith for believers, but the virtues themselves—kindness, perseverance, self-control, and love—are qualities that can be cultivated by anyone.

In fact, whether we are Christian, agnostic, follow another religion, or no religion at all, we still possess the capacity for love in our hearts and the ability to help others. Many people have turned away from religion because of painful experiences or because some who claim to follow God most strictly often seem to follow the spirit of love the least. That hypocrisy can be deeply discouraging. Yet the capacity for compassion and goodness remains within people regardless of belief. I believe that God instilled in all of humanity the potential for goodness, even if it is sometimes buried beneath the selfishness, greed, and hatred that human beings so often create.

Virtue means striving to live honorably and with integrity. Knowledge involves learning, reflection, and a deeper understanding of God and the world. Self-control and perseverance remind us that faith is lived day by day, often through difficult circumstances. Godliness shapes our lives toward compassion and humility. Mutual affection and love are the ultimate fruits of a life shaped by Christ.

Love, of course, stands at the center of it all. As Jesus taught, the greatest commandments are to love God and to love our neighbor (Matthew 22:37–39). When Peter ends this progression with love, he echoes that same truth: the goal of spiritual growth is not perfection, but love.

For many LGBTQ+ believers, the path of faith has included rejection, misunderstanding, or spiritual wounds. Yet even these painful experiences can become part of how God shapes us. As Paul writes in Romans 8:28, “We know that all things work together for good for those who love God, who are called according to his purpose.” That does not mean every hardship is good, but it does mean God can bring growth and purpose out of our struggles.

Peter’s list also reminds us that faith is meant to express itself through kindness and compassion. James describes “pure religion” as caring for those who are vulnerable and living with integrity (James 1:27). A life that grows in love naturally becomes a life that looks outward toward others.

And as we grow, we are called to share the hope we have found. First Peter 3:15 encourages believers to “always be ready to make your defense to anyone who demands from you an account of the hope that is in you.” For LGBTQ+ Christians, that hope can be a powerful testimony: that God’s grace and love reach all people.

The beauty of Peter’s words is that growth is ongoing. None of us possesses all these qualities perfectly. They are meant to increase over time. Faith begins the journey, and love becomes its destination.

God is not finished with any of us. Each day we continue growing—adding patience, wisdom, kindness, and love to our lives. And as these qualities grow within us, our lives become a reflection of the grace, compassion, and humanity that we were all created to share.

Pic of the Day

Moment of Zen: No Title Necessary

Pic of the Day

Coffee, Snow, and a Good Book

It’s Friday. Some Fridays are better than others, and today is one of the better ones because I’m working from home. Next Friday, I’ll be at the museum, and next week is going to be very busy, so I’ll spend today getting ready for all of that. At least I can do it from home, which makes it a little easier.

I don’t have any real plans for the weekend, and I’m perfectly fine with that. I’m not really up to much. I have a book I’m reading right now—and you’ll probably hear all about it next week—but for the most part, I plan to relax and read. Once I finish this one, I’m not quite sure what I’ll pick up next.

It’s supposed to be a cold and snowy weekend, so there really isn’t much better than bundling up under a blanket, curling up next to Isabella, and reading in quiet peace. When I lived in the South, I loved settling into a chair with a good book while a thunderstorm rolled outside. There’s something about that kind of weather that makes reading feel even more cozy and comforting.

I hope everyone has a wonderful, peaceful, and relaxing weekend!

Pic of the Day

Boldly Watching Before Work

This morning I’m making a slight change to my usual routine. Instead of sitting down to write a full blog post, I’m going to watch the season finale of Starfleet Academy before I get ready for work.

I’ve been enjoying the series, and since today is the finale, it seems like the perfect excuse to take a few minutes with my coffee and see how they wrap things up. Besides, sometimes even a blogger needs a morning off from writing.

So today’s post is short and simple.

I hope everyone has a great day! 🚀🖖💫

Pic of the Day

When Time Stands Still?

This morning began with a bit of confusion—or at least it felt like confusion in the middle of the night.

At some point I woke up and glanced over at my Amazon Echo. The clock read 11:18 p.m. Isabella was already trying to wake me up, which seemed odd. She usually doesn’t start her morning routine quite that early. I remember thinking, Why on earth is she trying to get me up at 11:18? I just went to bed.

For a moment, I wondered if something was wrong. Years ago, Isabella had a habit of waking me in the middle of the night if my blood sugar dropped too low. It was uncanny how she seemed to know when something wasn’t right. But that hasn’t happened in years, so I mostly dismissed the thought and drifted back to sleep.

A while later, Isabella was back at it—more insistent this time. When I looked at the Echo again, it still said 11:18 p.m. That’s when things started to feel a little strange. Surely that much time hadn’t passed and it was still 11:18.

So I picked up my phone.

4:21 a.m.

Ah.

Apparently time had not, in fact, frozen in my bedroom.

I tapped the screen of the Echo, which took a moment or two to wake up and think about its life choices before finally updating the display to the correct time and date. As best as I can tell, the device had simply frozen overnight and needed a little nudge to catch back up with reality.

Still, it made for a rather confusing moment. There I was thinking Isabella had decided that 11:18 p.m. was now an appropriate time to start the day.

To be fair, she probably knew exactly what time it was all along. Cats run on a very precise internal schedule that revolves around breakfast, attention, and making sure their humans don’t oversleep.

The Echo may have gotten stuck in the past, but Isabella clearly did not.

And judging from how determined she was to wake me, she would like it noted that 4:21 a.m. is already past breakfast time.

An Isabella Pic of the Week:

Pic of the Day

Notes For Further Study

Notes For Further Study
By Christopher Salerno

You are a nobody
until another man leaves
a note under your wiper:
I like your hair, clothes, car—call me!
Late May, I brush pink
Crepe Myrtle blossoms
from the hood of my car.
Again spring factors
into our fever. Would this
affair leave any room for error?
What if I only want
him to hum me a lullaby.
To rest in the nets
of our own preferences.
I think of women
I’ve loved who, near the end,
made love to me solely
for the endorphins. Praise
be to those bodies lit
with magic. I pulse
my wipers, sweep away pollen
from the windshield glass
to allow the radar
detector to detect. In the prim
light of spring I drive
home alone along the river’s
tight curves where it bends
like handwritten words.
On the radio, a foreign love
song some men sing to rise.

Sometimes the smallest gesture can feel like a revelation.

In Salerno’s poem, that revelation is almost absurdly simple: a note left under a windshield wiper. Yet the moment carries the weight of recognition. The speaker says, “You are a nobody / until another man leaves / a note under your wiper.” That line captures something deeply human—our desire to be seen, desired, noticed.

For queer people especially, that kind of recognition has often come in coded or fleeting ways: a glance, a quiet comment, a scribbled note. The poem captures the nervous excitement that comes with possibility. Is it an invitation? A mistake? A beginning?

The only notes I’ve ever received under my windshield wipers have been someone complaining that I parked too close to their car or a parking ticket. I can’t say anyone has ever left me a flirtatious note like the one in the poem. Still, the idea of such a moment—something unexpected and slightly daring—has a certain charm to it.

Spring surrounds the poem—blossoms, pollen, warmth, fever. The season becomes a metaphor for awakening desire. But the poem is not simply about lust. The speaker wonders whether he wants something softer, even tender: someone to “hum me a lullaby.” That line shifts the emotional tone from flirtation to longing.

By the end, the speaker is driving alone along a winding river, the curves “like handwritten words.” The note might promise connection, but the poem ends in contemplation rather than fulfillment. Sometimes desire is less about what happens and more about the moment when possibility first appears.

About the Poem

“Notes For Further Study” is a poem about recognition, longing, and the fragile beginnings of attraction. The opening lines immediately establish the emotional stakes: identity and worth seem suddenly validated by another man’s attention.

Salerno uses ordinary details—pollen on a windshield, a radar detector, crepe myrtle blossoms—to ground the poem in the mundane world of everyday life. Yet these details carry symbolic weight. The speaker repeatedly wipes away pollen from the glass, suggesting a desire to see clearly or remove the haze of uncertainty surrounding this new encounter.

Spring imagery runs throughout the poem. The season represents both fertility and restlessness. The phrase “our fever” evokes both romantic excitement and the irrational rush that accompanies attraction.

The poem also reflects on the speaker’s past relationships with women. Rather than condemning those experiences, the poem acknowledges them with a curious gratitude: “Praise / be to those bodies lit / with magic.” This moment suggests a complex emotional history rather than a simple narrative of discovery

Formally, the poem moves in short, flowing lines that mirror the motion of driving along a winding road. The final image—the river bending “like handwritten words”—suggests that desire itself is a kind of message, something written in curves rather than straight lines.

About the Poet

Christopher Salerno (born 1975) is an American poet, editor, and professor of creative writing. He was born in Somerville, New Jersey, and earned an MA from East Carolina University and an MFA from Bennington College. 

Salerno is the author of several poetry collections, including Whirligig (2006), Minimum Heroic (2010), ATM (2014), Sun & Urn (2017), Deathbed Sext (2020), and The Man Grave (2021). His work has received numerous honors, including the Georgetown Review Poetry Prize and the Georgia Poetry Prize. 

His poetry frequently explores masculinity, memory, grief, and the complexities of desire. Through vivid imagery and reflective narrative, Salerno often examines how everyday experiences—driving, listening to music, or brushing pollen from a windshield—can suddenly reveal deeper emotional truths.

In addition to his writing, Salerno teaches at William Paterson University in New Jersey and has served as an editor with Saturnalia Books, supporting the work of contemporary poets and helping bring new voices into the literary world.