School bus sidelined in the back parking lot. Live Oak and Spanish Moss catch the morning breeze. We turn our collars up, bury our hands in our pockets. Wade through pink petal confetti, hike our zippers a little higher, curse the “winter” weather, urge the dogs to move faster. Wink to each other and hurry back home . Continue reading “Winter” Wonderland
I debated about ordering a new calendar. Searched through my online options, then debated some more. Wondered if there would be anything to plan or look forward to or mark in ink in the year to come. Decided on this one. Flora and Fauna. Things with roots and things with wings do not question or ponder the year to come. They cling to the soil and reach for the sky regardless of the world around them. They are hopeful and optimistic. They trust the Earth to keep them grounded and Heaven to open wide and are hopeful that neither will … Continue reading Flora and Fauna
I found this picture while going through my shots of the day and looking for one to share here tonight. Shoehorned in between carefully framed shots of herons and the sea, was this one. Taken accidentally and unaware, while waiting for more perfect and photogenic elements to line up. Taken while swinging my arm restlessly, or rushing off to another, “better,” location, I hit the shutter and captured this random, trivial, should be deleted, mistake of a shot. This “mistake,” I realize is life. The mad rush from where we are to where we think we should be. The hurried, … Continue reading Quick Pic
My Mother said she would come back to us. In the form of a yellow butterfly. I am not so sure I believe in such things, but today, while raking and weeding and keeping busy, I saw an abundance of them flitting around in the garden. Passing close enough to get my attention, disappearing before I could capture them in pictures. My Mother was nervous about dying. She explained that it was something she had never done before and therefore she was hesitant and unsure. Here is the thing. One of my ancestors, whom my mom felt very close to … Continue reading Butterflies in Autumn
As I made my way from my house to my mom’s on early November mornings to relieve the Hospice nurse, headed into the sunrise, not sure what the sunset would bring, I would play this one over and over and almost over again. It played two and a half times between the two points, the final half listened to in the parking lot as I dried my tears, steadied my nerves and summoned the courage to leave my car and walk inside. Because, and it shames me to admit this, the only thing I wanted to do was run. To … Continue reading Alaska
November is the longest month. Its standard thirty days stretch into an eternity as it marches towards the date of my Mother’s passing. I feel the weight and foreboding grow strong and heavy, tuck me in like a suffocating blanket; fog my thinking, cloud my judgment, until that day finally cuts through the haze, all sharp edges and clarity. Today. My Mother gets two days. She passed on Thanksgiving (which was the 23rd three years ago.) The last two years I have not turned over the calendar because I knew I would be undone by the magnitude of those two … Continue reading A Long November
Today was overcast and cloudy. A quiet “do nothing” day. A day we took to corners with books and blankets, settled in and waited for the predicted rain. On occasion, the sun, in low angles, came out and streaked across the floor, and when it did, we sought out the dappled light and took to that instead. Continue reading Sun Day
A reminder that the sky is always bigger than the land, the road always more open than closed, the future always more present than past. A reminder that the best to come lies in the shadows and the blind spots and the places in between what we know and what we hope. A reminder that this limbo is all we have and all we know for sure; this place and this space between religion and nature; between regimentation and interpretation is where we find ourselves and where we are found. One rises high. The other higher. One rules the people. … Continue reading The Duel
He stops his hunt for bugs at our approach. Stands stock still. Strikes a pose and holds it waiting for us to pass. Hopes we haven’t noticed him, a shade lighter than the leaves. Hopes we extend him the mercy he does not afford the insects and beetles that stand stock still at his approach. Those that lack the ability to blend in are snatched up quickly, gobbled up whole and disappeared. He is not a link in my food chain and I do not hunt for fun, so I pretend not to see him as he pretends he has … Continue reading Blending In, Standing Out
Sweet Tea The Narwhal And Me 