Stones

I tune in online to watch the summer solstice at Stonehenge. It’s cloudy at Wiltshire, England and there isn’t  much to see. The only sound is the wind. I watch for a while, remembering what it was like when Gerry and I stood on that ground in the cordoned off area looking at the stones,

More Watercolour

When I decided to start playing with watercolour I was overwhelmed by choice. Paints, palettes, paper, brushes. I researched and studied and made decisions that were right for me—all the while washing paint on wet paper and being fascinated by the process. I wasn’t sure what I wanted to paint. Loose flowers, more true-to-life botanicals,

Quiet

Amidst the cacophony there are those sitting on the ground looking, in awe, at the wonder of growing things. And others, gazing upward at a starry sky feeling infinitesimally small beneath it. Worshiping. And in the quiet comes wisdom that can’t be comprehended where attempts to be right or stronger manifests as louder. I do

Beautiful and Terrible

It’s early, and the sun is in my eyes and I think I should move, but I don’t. If the sun is in my eyes, it means it’s not really so early after all. How can it be? I’ve already spent hours reading, praying, and sitting in silence and still I’m hungry for more of

Fits and Starts

Fits and starts: that’s summer this year. A few days ago, I sat in a small darkened community theatre and had the joy of watching my granddaughter perform in William Shakespeare’s Much Ado About Nothing. This Monday morning, I look ahead to a handful of quotidian days before the next summer shift. The ordinariness of picking

The Season of Wonder

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,