Moods of water float with ease on ice, broken. Let yours too. Water is drawn to rocky shores near naked sand. So am I. What is Love that it should shine through the dark night of my soul? What is darkness that it should reveal the Light of your love? Through fogs of depression You [...]
I heard the song of the cicadas outside my window and remembered the day we left Paradou. Jean Pierre held one between his fingers and told us how they live underground for seven years before emerging to life in that area of France. That's how long it took me to write Conversations with Dad, [...]
Today is the first day of my vacation and although I still have a newsletter article to write, a strategic plan to update and a grant to review before I can sign off :/, I had to take some time to honor Dad's one year memorial.
"Get some rest. Don't stress over the weekend about anything. That's what Mondays are for," my co-worker said with a giggle and her usual twinkle as I walked out of the office this evening. I had filled a manilla folder full of what I had hoped to check off my to do list today, packed [...]
One Thanksgiving years ago, my dad read a story about some kernels of corn in his Reader’s Digest. He pointed it out to me and shared the magazine but, taking little interest in the subject matter, I didn’t read it. I'm sure my thoughts were on more important things at the time, like what I would wear for the Holiday [...]
And there it was before me, or there it wasn't I should say. My path was buried under the earth, its final stretch beneath water. "Let it have its way," I said. "What was needed then is no longer needed now. The water has risen and come back to us." But I still longed to see it, the connection it stood [...]
"The waves are HUGE! White caps! Come look!" Todd sounded like a little boy discovering the water for the first time. "Where?" I said walking into the room not yet awake. "There! Oop...here comes another set!" It looked more like a ripple to me but we see things as we want to see them, don't [...]
Thirsty shores quenched by laughing, lapping waves. Sky wrinkled from a long night's work. Clouds, like cloaks, reveal pockets full of mystery. Against the somber waters, wings of hope appear and my eyes can see that nature, my close companion, understands the heart.
I dreamt of mosquito net canopies cascading from tree branches overhead in the wild and woke up in my bed in Mexico to buzzing in my ear. I picked up my phone hoping it would say 5:00 but saw 3:00. AP flashed across the top of my screen that there had been a bombing in Brussels. Oh [...]
From the distance, the limbs layered with maple leaves look like the tree's heavy overcoat. Up close, just a breath of air, a bird's wings and each leaf flutters in independence. How stately and majestic the tree stands in its new summer attire. It wears its age well as unseen life strengthens it—leaf to limb, trunk to root to depths of earth [...]
Not According to Plan 