Second Sunday forecast snow. 915 – a tiny flake? another. more . 930 – only barren trees shrouded in a clouded sky. I’d been so – expectant, if only for a moment –and, had already told Maisie. She remembers ‘first snow’ (so long ago) silently falling through the darkness sensing it, barking till we went…
Pieces lay scattered in anger across the breakfast room floor The bowl and pair of candlesticks had been an anniversary gift from my grandfather to my grandmother – for me, only images in photographs and stories In some small way being their conservator enabled me to physically connect with them However – when the candlestick…
Painted navy gray lifeboat oars, copper straps binding battered tips…
Sticky notes that framed my computer fill the waste basket – one by one – like fall’s last leaves dropping from trees (the business year is winding down) Out back little jenny-wren has taken up residence under the patio table, darting for cover when we open the door well sited near the feeder, yet nearly…
Sometimes life smarts – well, backward glances and forward hopes perhaps Examining – or not what it means to live a life “well lived” Striving to shoulder daily responsibilities, the shoulds, oughts, musts – while necessary – perhaps noble in some small way? Sometimes in quiet moments of reflection, it feels as if the shouldering…
Strive to live each day in little moments Noting the joy of each and let them become as small steps leading you through the darkness If you can capture one another will surely follow Sometimes we have to tell ourselves to breathe until the normal rhythms of life take over again
Out on the prairie and down east (along the coast) there are wild ponies, occasionally one sees a sign – DO NOT FEED I took a risk, guided my car roadside, and searched remnants of lunch for the saved afternoon snack Much larger than I imagined I wondered, would he charge, bolt, or bite –…
At those times when I feel in harmony with the world Every clock dances with 12:12, 3:03 or other synchronous pairs before moving on to the next minute in time Conversely, hands on a discordant clock suspend time as they stretch and point toward numbers that disagree Like a flashing red light they warn again…
Side by side
They hung against what
I imagined were cool stone walls
Planning a return to France began in January – a far reach from youth, when ‘the plan’ was nothing (but) a plane ticket, suitcase and love As winter ebbed and Spring came into bloom I deleted items from my list: étudier la langue (at the top) confirm passports, airline tickets technology requirements to stay in…
Against the antique oak rocker in the alcove leans a needlepoint begun decades ago (18th century American primitive re-created in my hand and style with woolen yarns and carefully selected stitches) Cart roads lead from the ‘big’ house, past out buildings and wild vines heavy with grapes (Norton?) – down at the river, a sailing…
Dusk along the lane only foundations remained we traced them with our feet stumbling occasionally I stood inside one he – just outside the one next door for one moment music lingered on the warm humid breeze in September of 1941 there was no carnage The old runway evoked pre-dawn mornings the palpable drone of…