They’re tearing up a piece of the main street in the city where I live. We go that way—me, for the first time since it all started—and navigate a detour that includes a mind-messing route going the wrong way on a one way street. My shifted perspective as we drive the wrong-but-temporarily-right way sparks my imagination.
I spend a couple of hours in the garden, pondering, imagining, making decisions, and tossing tiny seeds in the ground. I’m toting tomato and pepper plants outside every day and bringing them back in the house in the early evening. There are seed packets in my purse, and basil growing in my laundry room. These,
The sun is shining and birds are singing. It’s early, but wise ones have already come to walk in this park. Some are in pairs, many more walk in solitude. They are taking good care of both their physical and mental selves. Me, I sit in my car. I’m waiting to pick Maya up from
The house is silent. Gerry is out having coffee with his cronies. Maya, not quite herself after a dental procedure the day prior, snoozes on a blanket in the den. I carry a vase of grocery store flowers downstairs to my woman cave and set them on my writing desk in front of the north-facing
The sun rises in the eastern sky on this morning that anchors my faith. I remember the terrible things—and there are many. I hold them up to the light and they are washed in Love. Love and light; my risen Lord. Indeed. Indeed.
I watch a man in church. He stands with his wife, a young boy between them. The boy looks to be about the same age as our granddaughter. I think that they’re his grandparents, but I don’t know. The man’s hand rests gently on the boy’s shoulder. I catch a glimpse of the boy’s red-rimmed
I throw open the window coverings in our bedroom and I am in awe at a massive fog back snaking its way down the valley. Above, the sky is clear, and ever so gradually growing lighter as dawn draws near. Below, well those souls in the valley have pretty poor visibility this morning. Not long