My eyes are drawn to the schoolyard where six teenage boys are shooting hoops. That the sight seems extraordinarily ordinary speaks to the time in which we live. Ahead, the stoplight turns red and the convoy I’m in slows to a stop. I’m grateful because it gives me a few precious extra moments to watch
Eyes meet over the tops of masks. A locked door. “Who are you waiting to see?” Maybe I need a secret pass phrase to enter the building. The white swan met a stout man wearing a brown fedora. Nope. That doesn’t work. I wait, until eyes I think I recognize show up at the door
I enjoy coffee and conversation with a friend in a coffee shop, and that little piece of the world seems almost normal. Just as I’m about to make one of my granddaughter’s discarded Disney princess barrettes part of my style, I connect with my stylist and schedule a hair appointment. I’m getting my hair cut today.
Good morning. It’s Monday. The first day of June. If there was ever a day for a fresh start this is it. If there was ever a time when I needed a fresh start—well, I expect many of us do. It’s been a tough spring. Summer arrives this month; there’s no stopping it. And that
Some things hit me like a punch in the gut and the terrible seems far bigger and louder than the beautiful. Other times, I lean in, look closely at something small and quiet and easily missed and there I find wonder that washes me in peace. I don’t subscribe to the theory that if I
The first rays of morning sun kiss the trees in the green space behind our home and the lilac bush in the yard and the green takes on a hue that is nothing short of brilliant. The right light makes all the difference. I think of the words of a verse I had tacked to the
I carry baby tomato plants in a small box on my lap while Gerry drives to the community garden. My hands brush across their leaves. The scent of hope wafts from them. The plants have been growing in my laundry room since I dropped tiny seeds into pots in early April, unmotivated, with barely enough