Kubabi™ Books is the site of the writings of Sheryl "Maryna" Studley Ozuna, commonly known as Maryna (Mah-ree-nah) Ozuna. Spanning a lifetime of experiences, the writings have the common thread of being rooted in a deep reverence for the wonders of nature, the inspiration nature brings, and nature's capacity to heal. The children's books are specifically dubbed "Nature Friendly™ to reflect a commitment to connecting children with nature.

There have also been many human sources of inspiration for Kubabi™ Books and its contents. Kubabi itself means "river dove" in the language of the ancient Pima of the Sonoran region. This name was first given to the small adobe chapel I helped build on our property on the banks of the Rio Babasac, in the small, northern Sonoran village of Imuris, Mexico where I lived for a decade. The name Kubabi and its symbolism were gifted to us by a dear friend, Miguel Cervantes, a lay archaeologist with a passion for the layers of history in the Sonora.

For me, over the years in Mexico, it came to mean a sacred place. When we began developing Kubabi™ Books years ago, it seemed an appropriate name to designate a place that I hoped to be a repository for inspiration and connection with nature, just as the ranch and the sanctuary were for so many.

Don Pancho, the wise elder character in Can You Hear the Earth Sing, was a real person, Don Francisco Tadeo, my treasured elder friend, participant in a thousand adventures, mischievous wit, and the most loyal human being I have ever known.

From my earliest moments of awareness, my parents, James Arthur Studley and Mary Ann Studley instilled in me a love of books and reading. Both teachers, my mother read aloud to me nightly without fail for years until I could finally read on my own. We read certain books together so many times, I thought, and still think, that Black Beauty by Anna Sewell was a guide for life. Those nights forever graced me with a love for the magic of words.

A loving shout out to my sister Su Marcy who keeps me sane in an ever-changing world.

Finally, in memory of Francisco Ozuna, with whom I shared the Mexico years, our beloved Sonoran region, a decade of service to our community, and a deep dive into native culture, you enabled my creativity to soar. I will never forget.

Una Flor

Solo una flor
quedo de aquella primavera,
semilla que guarda
la madre tierra,
tiene el perfume
de una flor caida,
la patria palidez
de nuestra raza muerta.

Just one flower
left from that spring,
a seed guarded
by the mother earth,
with the perfume
of a flower fallen,
the stone paleness
of our dead race.

Francisco Ozuna