The image looks like the moon sitting upon the water. It is the New Year’s Eve moon, merging her illumination with the afternoon’s final sun of 2014 and playful wispy clouds. The moon sitting upon the ocean she rocks back and forth…..
Here’s to Gilbert. A scrich my friend, you will not see. Sometimes you just have to trust the energies of leaving a feather to return kindness. Winter’s storm had gift 5 inches or so of snow for the earth to drink…and a little hobbit to shovel. The temperature was only 1 degree and double digit wind chill. The drive and parking area to get my car out can take one to two hours depending on the weight and depth of…..
If you look closely at the image you see so many gifts. Like the game of looking up at clouds. There is the turbulent image of rushing white waters careening over the waterfall. A view from above of snow capped mountains. Perhaps even…..
A simple scrich. A simple image. Winter’s tree limbs cupped like a hand. A gentle hand holding my raven friend. He was watching as I shoveled snow in an area of the yard to put out seed. I looked up and saw…..
Oh that the image could capture what I saw and how it startled me so. About to close the curtains and say good night to the day, I felt myself gasp. There was only a sliver moon which barely cast a gentle…..
G’night Christmas Day. Hello sweet moon. A perfect reminder for this day, and for all, that no matter what we see, the illumination is always full. We just have to look into the shadow.
May laughter and joy cling to you like glitter, cellophane, snow, and scotch tape. May the overwhelming beauty of your heart, soul, and spirit make the sun and moon smile to see such illumination. May you unwrap with gentle fierceness the gift of…..
Winter’s storm has bent the Hollyhock bereft of its summer’s life and beauty. And yet I have been entranced by its image of elegance and grace. This time last year the air was still filled with the dust of drought and scars from…..
Behind and within the clouds there are mountain peaks. I smile to see the clouds resting like the migrating geese upon the lake. I have left cornmeal blessings upon the trails to welcome winter’s solstice and to give thanks for nature’s gentle…..
Ok. Food is not my friend so going to the store is not something I either excel at or excites me. Especially the Saturday before Christmas. As I poured my delaying cup of coffee I noticed the treasured feathers gifted last weekend……
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