(click on every pic….they open up.)

Odd, but today outside, this morning, the air fresh and sky cloudy, a light mist of pollen in the air, the birds chirping, I felt the call to life I haven’t heard or wholeheartedly answered since my cousin, Linda Martin, died. A month, two, pass so quickly. I stood at the doorway and listened. The wind ruffled the leaves to a rustle, still the birds sang, my dog’s feet clomped the earth as he ran, and there was the call.   The call came so loud to my head it shut my eyes.

Then, I saw.


The jungle grew, the earth alive on its own behalf, breathing, swaying, resting. I was inside the dance for a moment before my eyes opened to a different place. I took a step but it stretched too far, the spinning earth had added to the stride bringing me to a place I hadn’t expected. There, at my feet, was a small, yellow daisy growing for its life among the grass. I would have never seen this flower—though the yellow pedals screamed for attention—if I hadn’t taken the time and the moment been so right, all predicated upon my stride being out of joint.


The daisy seemed to speak.

Shadow noticed.

It’s a new day, one to live. There are memories, yesterdays, that we surf on to the next with each new day not promised but expected. I’ll never forget peeking into my first born’s bedroom early in the morning thinking she’d be asleep but, no, 3-year-old Kelly was on her knees on her bed, spreading the blinds to see the morning light… ” A new day…” She whispered the words  some thirty-five years ago and set my soul on this blog.

Kelly caught on to everything quickly….

And took it all in.

It’s a New Day. One to embrace.

Children explore everyday.

There’s so much to do and so much to be done; I never wish a day over, but try to stretch it out, like a stride taken out of joint. Wednesday, Friday,,,they fill the same amount of space on the calendar but play out in unique, always different ways.

Expectancy for the moment can leave the next taken for granted.

It’s easy in this hurried, worried world to over look the flower within us: life. That’s the gift we have to share.

Bloom where we are.

The Old Man’s Beard tree is coming out again.

We’re jumpin’ for joy.


The red single Hibiscus… Bye. Here’s to a happy, snappy, spring.