Natalie Ogbourne

What Made Her Sparkle

My great-grandma was a woman of summer. She kept a garden and her table overflowed with its bounty. She picked berries for jam and to top ice cream. Once in a while, I helped her in the berry patch or the garden and it always shocked me when she showed up in pants....

In The Silence

Morning is quiet again. Sort of. The distant whine is gone and when I step out on my deck, birds are all I hear. The cicadas started early this summer–not the usual ones, not the dog day ones, not the ones that make me sad. These were the Magicicada Brood III,...

Broken Bits

I will not be posting during  June. Of the months of summer, it is June when my children are least busy and I want to put aside the distraction of the internet for that month. Between now and then, whether we–you and I–find ourselves at the ball field or...

Sometimes the Road is Dark

We don’t always get it right out on the trail. We knew it would be close. Still, we hopped out at the picnic area, grabbed a late lunch, and prepared to hit the trail to Harney Peak, the highest point in the Black Hills. My husband filled our camel paks while I...
Gifts of Spring

Gifts of Spring

Bird song mingled with the rumbles of highway trucks. The force of green marching through the woods toward the house. Pastures dotted with red and black cattle and frolicsome calves on the hills. The sound of a sudden rain–the kind that starts out like it means...

The Quiet Walk

There is more to a hike than a pair of boots, a granola bar, and the trail. There’s technique. At least that’s what they taught in the hiking class I took to satisfy a  college P.E. requirement. I was slow to come to a love of hiking and didn’t yet have it...