Morning Meditation 10.6.14
The walking path stretches out before me, each step a peek into a crystal ball and I the gypsy soothsayer. Continue reading Morning Meditation 10.6.14
The walking path stretches out before me, each step a peek into a crystal ball and I the gypsy soothsayer. Continue reading Morning Meditation 10.6.14
Cool-ish is good enough in the dog days of August at 8:30 in the morning as I hose off the bamboo littered patio, anticipating my first sip of dark French roast and the pop of a fresh Georgia peach in my mouth. Dear Sunday morning, what is it about you that always starts out so hopeful? Continue reading Morning Meditation 8/10/14
What a gorgeous thought….. Continue reading Morning Meditation
June is only a few days away and already I can feel the first flush of real summertime in the air. The barest of breezes rustles the ferns and feels lukewarm on my bare arms. The cats are still as death lying in the patches of sunlight peeking through the Magnolia, the dogs trotting around edges of the backyard. I take a sip of coffee while reading about The Shawshank Redemption in the paper (Type “370,000” into a Google search and the site auto-completes it with “in 1966”. Andy escapes in 1966 with $370,000 of the warden’s ill-gotten gains.) I … Continue reading Morning Meditation 5.25.14: Summer Coming On
The early morning humidity feels voluptuous on my skin. I’m drunk with the scent of Magnolia and sea water. Continue reading Morning Meditation 5.22.13: Flower and Water
Banana trees are contrary, popping up willy-nilly wherever they wish. I’m also contrary, snipping them back to the ground with my sharp trusty clippers. This is my garden. I will decide who goes where. Continue reading Morning Meditation 5.19.14: Bananas
The morning is heavy. It waits with stilled breath for shoving or parting, for breaking out or lying in. A lone woodpecker hammers diligently. Continue reading Morning Meditation 5.9.14 – Nebulous
The morning air is moist and expectant and smells like frothy white waves pushing sand between bare toes. when I close my eyes I feel the briny breeze, the familiar cries of gulls floating between here and there. Continue reading Morning Meditation 5.7.14 – The Gulf
A flash of brown and red scrambles up a spire of green, holds on tight at the top like a desperate man on the ledge of a burning building. Squirrels in the bamboo. Continue reading Morning Meditation 5.6.14 – Squirrels
Ferns glow in the morning sun like constellations in the night sky. Rustling palm fronds reveal O.J. the cat peering down from his tropical perch, on the hunt for careless birds seeking breakfast. Continue reading Morning Meditation 5.5.14 – Constellations