Where seeds of thought have room to grow
Category: Friendship
-
Jim called himself an Indian, not a Native American. He was born and raised in Oklahoma, but for the life of me I can't remember what tribe's blood ran through his veins. His skin was dark like oiled leather, his black hair untouched by gray despite the thirty year difference in our ages. I…
-
When Belle first peered through the French doors at me this morning, eager for our walk, the Hollow was still dark and blanketed in fog. It was beautiful but eerie … the new sunlight created a world of gray. Silhouettes of trees were specters lining the back ridge. The fog had begun to lift by…
-
First, gather together friends you never get to see anymore, despite the fact that your kids are now mostly grown, if not out of the nest altogether, and we should have tons more time on our hands. Go figure. Add enough food for ten times the number of people in your house, as…
-
Pink clouds, pink skies have greeted my ascension to the dirt road the past two mornings … a nice change from the woolen grays and mist that have been waiting up there for me lately. I've noticed that a pink sky or one filled with clouds that look dipped in pink-orange paint lighten my heart…
-
I've been unplugged for a couple of days now, soaking in the presence of my family and friends, trying to live in the moment, stashing each away to pull out later in emergencies, like when the kids aren't able to be here for Christmas. I know that day will come, because it came to my…
Long Hollow 