There are few things as beautiful as a winter sky here in Snow Camp. One of those is a winter sky when it's actually warm enough to enjoy it from any point in the yard.
But, there's more than convenience in communicating. The weight of this old phone is a reminder of how important and wonderful it is ~and always has been~ to hear the voice of someone we care about, someone we love.
...a few more leaves release their grip to leave the height of the branches for the rush of the wind. Gliding, swirling, rising, falling, beautifully in air currents invisible, but for what they carry, and today, they carry the copper leaves of November.
The coffee is fresh, the day is new. The china cup, probably closer to 100 than I realized.
Sadness is only part of the journey. There is immense beauty, joy and love in this world, and if we can't find it when we look around, perhaps it's time for us to make it happen.
It's just past noon in this little corner of the world. Just beyond the screen mid-day rain is dancing with the slight, cool breeze. It's a in-between hour, in an in-between part of the year. Change is in the air. Glorious, brilliant, magnificent. All true descriptions of the colors of the maples, elms, oaks, all … Continue reading In between.
The clouds are breaking up and drifting off. A glimpse of the harvest moon may be possible tonight, after all. There's more to be done, but for now I'll enjoy the patio at Saxapahaw General Store. It's a cool 70 degrees, there's a buzz of people coming and going, and the buzz of conversations drifting … Continue reading Days like this and Tangerine beer.
The wind is still gusting here, and the rain has returned. To be honest, I’m loving it. I have the greatest respect for the power of nature and I know any of the trees could turn loose of this saturated ground at any moment. Risks understood, I slipped out back a few minutes ago for … Continue reading Scene from a Sunday stroll
This morning I took my coffee to the front porch to enjoy the soft morning breeze before the humidity kicks in. The wildflowers are all but spent, easily mistaken for tall, gangly weeds at this point, but the birds love this little patch of tall seeds, and because of them, so do I. Soon enough … Continue reading Morning