Dogwood flower, on a cold rainy day in the spring.
You may be an artist, a writer, a someone, a nobody, a bricklayer, or a masseuse, but in the end we are all historians. Whether we leave a record of ourselves, through a drawing, a novel, short story, essay, a cornerstone in a building, or touch someone with a a healing hand, it's all a [...]
In the morning, I drove by a bunch of pale yellow daffodils, sitting beside the road, in the culvert, all alone, they stood out in their vanity, among the weeds. Further down the road, the gate to the cemetery was wide open, on this cloudy day. Gray stones popped up against green grass. Littered with small [...]
April is gone. Now, it is May. Splashes of color paint the landscape, in the pouring rain. Garlands of pink cherry blossoms hang down against green trees, like ornaments, on a proscenium stage. Tiny yellow leaves appear, on trees, as babies, waiting to mature. Sunshine jolts my moody spirit, where deep thoughts reside. It illuminates [...]
I mentioned earlier that I met a young woman named April, and in writing, also referred to a woman I met named Willow. I saw Willow today. I see her on occasion because she works in the community. When I first noticed her name-tag, oh say, three years ago, I thought, “how unique!” I notice names, and [...]
And the Spring arose on the garden fair, Like the Spirit of Love felt everywhere; And each flower and herb on Earth's dark breast Rose from the dreams of its wintry rest. Shelly
I met a girl, or a young woman, I should say, this April. She checked me out at the grocery store, and as she did so, I noticed her name. "April!" I thought, I've never met anyone named "April" in April, before, and I told her so. She said she was born on the 30th [...]