Liminal Days

The sprinklers have been blown out. Lawn furniture, outdoor mats, and flower pots all stowed for the winter. The garden is cleaned out and garlic is planted. Now we wait. One morning, there’s a dusting of white on the hills down the east valley. I pull on long pants instead of Capris, socks and shoes

Friday Fave Five – October 9

Well, we slogged our way through another week (That’s how if feels. Just keeping it real.). Friday arrives fat with promise and intention to spend a day puttering at home. Seems like another good opportunity to look back at the week that was, because despite the weight that feels so heavy it was rich with

Seasonal Shift

I move my morning basket from beside the wing chair in the living room where I have watched the sky in all her splendour declare the glory every morning, to the den. Now, and through the dark months ahead, I’ll greet the day there, on the leather sofa under a Sherpa blanket. Cozy. In solitude

Respite

Gerry and I took a short trip this weekend and some of the gifts were conversation en route, hope resurrected, and releasing the weight of “is this all there is?”. I’ve been wrestling with depression—there, I’ve written it. I spoke it aloud a few days ago and now I’ve written it so it’s official. I’ve been in

December Days

The sun shone a few days ago. It was noteworthy because it’s been gray so we packed up our cameras, grabbed some coffee, and went for a drive. It was glorious. We talked, looked, and didn’t click the shutters on our cameras once. No matter. The sunlight did what it does so well. It revived