I have been fighting with technology for most of the evening but…..there is more than one way to skin a cat. All of that because I wanted to share with you the sounds from my front porch this morning. It was a black, angry morning with severe thunderstorms and possible tornadoes in the forecast. So like anyone who loves weather, I grabbed my cup of tea and hurried outside in my cozy pants to be a part of it all. I was not disappointed. Rain fell, lightning flashed, thunder boomed and church bells rang. It was a glorious, loud, soothing … Continue reading Sounds Good To Me

Resurrection Fern grows and piggybacks on the limbs of some Live Oak trees. The fact that our Live Oak is host to it was pointed out to us as a good omen by our real estate agent when we were looking at our house. It looks dead or dormant under less than ideal circumstances. Retreats inward, collapses into itself, curls up, becomes still and silent, a shell of itself. But it is alive and hopeful and waiting. Waiting for the rain. So it was fitting that today of all days the rain came. Not a lot but enough. Enough to … Continue reading Rebirth

Spring is here and the old is making room for the new. Yellow, weathered, tired leaves give up their claim to branches, loosen their grip on this life and surrender themselves to the ground, making room so the next in line can live out one glorious season in the sun. It is a time of loss and rebirth and the transition makes one heck of a mess. That is life isn’t it? A series of starts and stops, of prime and decline, of hanging on and letting go. Change doesn’t come without a bit of a shake up. Without a … Continue reading Spring Cleaning

My porch is my favorite place. I never tire of the view from it or the stability and wonder of it all. I have struggled most of my life to feel settled, to feel grounded, to feel at peace with where I am. I have spent many restless, unsettled years pacing the confines of my life, longing to be anywhere else. I have spent most of my life homesick for a place I had never been. Here on this porch I feel settled. Here in the rustle of deep rooted trees I feel grounded and safe. Here in the company … Continue reading My Little Corner of the World

I wonder as I wander, as I keep my distance from others, mask my smile, quicken my pace, hurry back home. I wonder as I wander, about the flowers who have been sleeping, have struggled against the confines of soil, have propelled themselves upwards by instinct, have made grand their entrance into the world only to find it empty. I wonder as I wander, as I see them straining upwards, resting wearing heads on metal fence. I wonder as I wander, if they notice we are missing as they determinedly navigate the openings, the gaps, the spaces between earth and … Continue reading Free the Flowers

If ever I dared too far to roam, the trees would claim me and call me back home. Continue reading Tethered to Trees

April is the missing month. My calendar remains turned to March until May rolls around. Appointments, meetings and things that need to be done are written on post it notes and stuck next to the calendar. We don’t speak of it. It isn’t questioned. And no one dares turn the page early . But as much as I try to avoid it, skip over it, pretend it isn’t lurking just under the surface of March, April always manages to find me. It finds me missing my stepfather who passed away on this day (the 6th) three years ago and my … Continue reading The Missing Month

On the day the tiger tested positive, inherited a dry cough from her keeper, paced and stalked herself into history, we spotted a lion while out walking. It froze once spotted, turned its head and turned to stone. Its roar a silent echo hanging weightless in the air. It held its breath until we passed, daring not to breathe us in. Continue reading Big Game

“Here” was my answer when asked the question. The question of where I want to go first when all of this is over. The question of where I would choose to be if I could choose anywhere at all. I blurt it out without thinking. The word conjured from primal magic, instinct-borne and propelled upward on the contraction of a heartbeat. It tastes like cloves and mint, and blades of chewed up grass, slides over my teeth, is weightless and heavy once spoken. Tree branch shadows on the ceiling, old houses out of focus viewed though gauzy window sheers. Evening … Continue reading Shelter