(or what comes after) Not one but two deaths, to hammer home that we are but dust, as if smearing ashes on the forehead just wasn’t enough. A memorial service, followed by another vigil, sandwiched between math tests, Latin vocab and baking bread. Old stories heard fresh reread and retold through a book of wild … Continue reading
Part 1 I find myself alone, a coincidence of one child old enough to fly a thousand miles on her own, and another still willing to go on a Daddy walk in all the old places. So I sit, coffee and pastel M&M’s in hand, feeling the emotions of the last two days roll through, … Continue reading
March is mid-season Despite calendar or weatherman; Not the deepest cold Nor the full onslaught of color yet, But brown, and moody A tumultuous whiplash of weather. March is mid-sun An increase in light and longing; Not the strength and length as the year’s zenith Nor the watery and wan winter’s rays, But enough power … Continue reading
lines etched in leathery hide concentric circles of memory & loss, of joy & wisdom radiate outward from eye to cheek to bridge of nose and always tugged back to your downward gaze. as if all your lumbering glory your searching thirst and desperate losses & joyful trumpets could be contained in that one single … Continue reading
A necessary balance to the shorter and darker days of winter is found in the blazing fireplace, the cheery string of mantle lights and a scented candle, which brighten both space and spirit. Lots of natural light floods the picture window during the cold winter: bare trees, arms outstretched offering only what is necessary, are … Continue reading
the way leaves danceswaying and sighing melancholythin, spidery and fragilethe way light dancesstreaming and bursting throughholes, cracks and tearsthe way that I lovewobbling and triumphant sometranslucent with effortthe way that you loverising and setting everover, around and through This post is inspired by the WordPress online course, Writing: Finding Everyday Inspiration (Day 4: A Story in a … Continue reading
the way the ocean pullslong and slowscraping and kissing the shorelike one deep inhalethe way the shells crunchsatisfying underfootas if hard steps canground out shatteredand shared painthe way the sky singsexpansive and openwind whipping up and calling me out
This is the fourth installment of a series on the color brown and seeing things as they really are. Read the other posts. I love lists. Groceries, errands, things to get done today, next week, this year…having things all spelled out in an orderly fashion soothes me. Checking things off my list is immensely satisfying. … Continue reading
This is the third installment of a series on the color brown and seeing things as they really are. Read the other posts. Not far down my street, I almost stepped in it. Dog poop. Bits and pieces of crumbly goose poop littered another spot on the walk. At one point I noticed some crap, … Continue reading
This is the second part of a series on the color brown and seeing things as they really are. Read the introduction to the series. With the first step out my door, I notice brown. Leaves, leftover debris from an unfinished fall cleanup, littered the snow. In fact I remembered my husband’s comment as he … Continue reading
"That got me thinking..." 