Bookend photos for Mama. The water, specifically the Gulf, was her heaven. As soon as there was light, with her sunbathing lounge chair in tow, she would head for the shore. She would return when the sun set to prepare supper. Her only chore on vacation. Then to the porch to sit and guide the moon through the sky upon the crashing waves.

Like bookends, she would, as best she could, support the books I chose to stand. That’s what bookends do. And in between the sunrise and moonrise, I have written my own scriches. On this Mother’s Day, Mama, know that your bookends were always knitted in my hobbit’s heart. I’ve gone through a lot of books. These bookends remain. As does your heart and love of nature that you left in mine. These bookends are for you.  I miss you.