Author: admin

A rare January in Northern California morning colder than New York City. I don’t take well to that kind of cold; though I layered, adding a knit hat and furry gloves. And can I tell you about the sky? It was cerulean blue, a...

Why does life still feel like a wobbling Jenga game? Pull out the wrong piece and it will all fall down. Did I dare think we would spring back to Before COVID-19, return to normal with a wave of a magic wand? As if all the...

The sky a flawless blue, that kind of August day, that gets under your skin. Scaffolds holding up the heavens bracing against celestial infinity. Feels like the heavenly court is looking down on me, demanding a reckoning. I look...

She came from a family of fast talkers, but her mind moved faster than her tongue. She was quick to the heart of a matter, quick to sympathize, quick to draw conclusions but quicker to draw, pencil scratching faster than words...

And still they come, drums rolling, headlines parading across the page, phones dinging at dawn, another news cycle, Dear God, not again, pendulum of freedom swung too far from our stalwart ancestors who braved a tyrant, stoned a...

I want to float downriver in a raft of otters— belly up, pup nestled on my tummy or wrapped in seaweed as I hunt for lunch, to hold a small, sleek paw in mine, nap the day away, thick pelts protection against the wet of river. I...

Gulls slice the air, wheeling, calling The moon dips into a sky-blue sea All my senses tingle We walk the lake at sunset The moon dips into a sky-blue sea Clouds drift by—the trees bare We walk the lake at sunset I tremble at...

I love the sound of church bells reverently reverberating at dusk— Like birds they rely upon each other’s call. I love the sound of church bells. How they bounce off window panes on Italy’s narrow streets– peek...

Dancing light between clouds of grey, I trip on my own shadows. Unsettled, stiff-legged, my feet search for ground– Unsure where they will lead me—even on familiar paths.

I wake thinking about death and compost. Because we’re old, because I’m frightened for myself, my husband, my brother, his wife, their daughters. The day feels like a Friday, a Saturday, a Tuesday, a day unlike...