On a late summer Sunday morning, when there’s a distinct something (I dare not call it a chill, though that’s what it is) in the air, I’m out in the garden, mug of coffee in hand, peering at spent pansy blossoms, looking for seed pods that are dry enough to harvest. I want to grow pansies in…
This morning, it was the moon, so bright just above the thick-with-evergreens hill to the south. It seemed as though, if I were standing on top of that hill, I would be able to reach up and touch it. An involuntary “oh!” escaped from between my lips when I saw it. I have grown accustomed…
“I have done nothing all summer but wait for myself to be myself again.” Georgia O’Keefe It wasn’t my intention to step away from this space for most of the summer, but as time went by, more and more, it seemed the right thing for me. Twice I opened my MacBook, thinking I’d tap out…