He passed away a few days ago. the call came a little after 3 am Monday morning. A tearful daughter was on the other end. Within, minutes I was out of bed, short-walked the dogs and took off in my Kia Soul to be with her. …

Seasoned Affair this burning love affair engulfs me with flames, life ablaze in amber, orange, & red submission my only mapped direction embracing every stroke painting my being, energy’s exitement exhibited leaving me breathless a written page to be turned, an unrequited desire to be held this way forever, not allowing the exhale, a moment to reread while here knowing its fleeting nature

come splash upon me pushing ever so gently, slicking my hair back so that it drips down my spine, over my breasts catching my breath momentarily, I’m pulled towards the horizon, as droplets glisten under the rising sun

the winds capture me as they howl and whirl cupping me in the grips of their arcs lifting me away from where I have been spinning, dancing with my essence of being gently twirling away along pathless journeys and unknown destinations the wind and I, momentary partners

Yesterday, I took a two hour ride to pick up two new nucs of bees. Mr. Bear visited last October and well, I hope he had enough protein to survive his winter. I had ordered the new bees back in January and earlier in the week, received notice that the…

I am weary feeling, caring, loving ain’t all its cracked up to be. To feel for those who take their last breath alone. Care for those where the demon virus has become a part of their lives. to love someone with whom you cannot be near as they breathe a living hell alone. I long to visit that numbed place within, a comfort place so long ago allowing me to escape myself, but one that kept me prisoner

Gathered bits of bright yellow harbingers of spring in bloom and bud, a bit of sky blue Siberian squill some green from fresh fragrant juniper to be the first of many bouquets to come. Displayed in a designated spot within this stay at home site. A still life telling the story of Spring 2020, uninvited guests, and hope leaving a half smile, half smirk within.

To hear a clear sparkling stream ripple by be within the aged sheltering hemlocks walk upon nataure’s nourishment of the forest floor embrace the simple gifts given freelly to sit upon fallen trees with mushroom neighbors below sunlit trees casting shadows below yet filtering the warmth of rays, hear falling water share its song sounds of life moving onward while you know the stillness, the quiet, and peace of your being, your love of self, shared with others, knowing this as home.

The Powder Hole, a beautiful gorge that the Big Wap(short for Wapwallopen) Creek runs through,has been a sacred refuge for me for more than 40 years. It has served as nearby free ‘camping vacations” for my kids when budgets were more than tight. It was/is where I find myself when…